


Fate (Or Something Like It)

by plastic_cello



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 54,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/pseuds/plastic_cello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki Odinson was a successful business lawyer in New York City; he had everything that he could ever want, but hadn't found his mate yet.  But fate (or something like it) will change that soon enough, and bring him someone he never expected would end up being his omega.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue :: Preference or Biology

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to see an alpha/omega story written for Loki and Bucky; but since the pairing isn't very popular, I had to write it myself.

* * *

 

**Prologue :: Preference or Biology**

 

* * *

 

"In this month's issue of Vogue, there's an article about how the trendy thing to do nowadays is to pick a mate based on personal preference rather than biology."

"This coming from a woman who found her mate at thirteen years old,"

"I'm only telling you about an article I happened to read. I imagine you've even met some of these artists and entrepreneurs who choose to live their lives that way."

"What are you trying to say, Sif?" Loki abandoned his chef's salad, so he could scowl at his childhood friend. "Are you suggesting that I choose my mate that way and forget every instinct I've had since birth?"

They had many conversations about this topic over the years. The majority of people in civilized society did at one point or another, especially when it came to an unattached acquaintance or relative or friend. More specifically if the aforementioned individual was well into their thirties without finding a compatible match.

"Not everyone finds their designated mate, Loki. But even when they do, they've had some experiences beyond one night stands. They have had some experience in relationships."

"I'm not pathetic for not finding my mate yet."

"I never suggested that you were, but you're thirty-four years old. You know as well as I do it's rare to find your mate at this age." Sif shot him an exasperated look, before she shifted sideways to grab for her oversized bag beside her chair. "I actually have the magazine with me; it's worth a read."

Loki didn't reply, as he watched Sif rummage single-mindedly through her bag, and eventually unearth a furled up magazine with a glossy cover. Some celebrity was on the cover, one Loki had undoubtedly met at a dinner party or wedding or benefit gala. Wherever he met the doe-eyed starlet really didn't matter anyway, though.

Social affairs weren't truly his forte, but they were necessary to maintain his presence with the important individuals of the city's elite. He was a well-trusted lawyer, who worked alongside some of New York's finest and brightest businessmen; which only heightened his visibility and success even more.

"Take a look; it might change your mind." Sif held out the magazine to him. "Go on."

"Why does my single status concern you?" He snatched the periodical from her and sped read over the headlines. "Preference or biology which one is for you,"

"You act so blasé, but you don't want to be alone."

"I'm not blasé, I'm just realistic."

"Just because you traveled across Europe and Asia looking for your mate and didn't find them, doesn't mean they aren't out there. Besides it wouldn't hurt to find someone compatible to spend your time with until you do."

"You're insinuating I'll never find my omega." He shot her a steely look. "That's why you want me to read this silly little article and become enlightened by this unorthodox practice."

Despite wanting to believe otherwise, Loki had already reserved himself to a life of solitude. He didn't believe he'd ever find his mate. Studies stated that the older one got, the least likely it was to find your mate. Of course, there had been cases of mates finding one another past the age of forty; but that was rare as much as Sif's situation was rare.

Not many mates found one another in childhood or in later adulthood. Most found one another in their twenties, some even in the late teens; and while it wasn't completely unheard of to find one's mate in your thirties, it still wasn't normal. Which was precisely why, Loki had taken several weeks off from work to look blindly for his mate.

"I'm not insinuating anything. I don't like to see you upset; I'm just trying to help." Sif said gently, before reaching across the table to touch his wrist. "I want you to be happy, Loki. You're successful in every facade of your life but this area. And you could be successful in this one too, if you just let yourself be happy."

"I'll be happy when I find my mate." He practically snarled, tossing the magazine to the ground without a second thought. "And if I don't find them, then that'll be my problem not yours."

"I know this a touchy subject, but you need to discuss it with someone. If not me, in the very least your brother,"

"Oh yes, my brother; the same man who found his mate at twenty-one and has several infuriating brats to show for the union. Yes, Thor would understand more than anyone why his younger brother cannot do something as simple as finding his mate."

"Thor would not be unsympathetic, Loki. You make him sound like a monster."

"Not a monster, a pea-sized brute who thinks biology is simple." Loki pushed his chair away from the table and stood; reaching into his back pocket, he freed his wallet and tossed several hundred dollar bills onto the tabletop to cover the cost of their meal. "My apologies, Sif; I seemed to have lost my appetite."

When he returned his wallet to his pocket, he bent down to retrieve his briefcase and the magazine too. He contemplated tossing it on the table, to show the level of his disgust by his friend's suggestion to go against his very nature and follow some bohemian trend instead. But he thought better of it, and figured he would toss it out before he left the restaurant and headed back to his office for the remainder of the day.

With a curt goodbye, he made his way through the upscale eatery; dropping hellos as he passed by acquaintances big and small, even though his mood had been soured considerably. Then again, it really didn't matter if that was the case; Loki had learned early on to act the part that would garner him the most success in his professional and social life.

As he came to the maître d's station, he eyed the glossy cover once more. He remembered suddenly that he had met that actress at a birthday party in the Hamptons. There had been a bellowing smell from her, if his memory was correct; an obvious stench of an oncoming heat, which hadn't been blocked by heat suppressants.

Some omegas, unattached ones, had been known to flaunt their heats; maybe in a feeble attempt to find their mate. Although, Loki highly suspected it was meant to find _any_ alpha that was foolish and desperate enough to get involved in such a dicey situation. And he suspected the article that Sif had wanted him to read, involved research on such unsavory practices such as that one.

While the idea of preference over biology seemed like a foreign and impractical concept to Loki, maybe Sif had a point. He hadn't been successful in thirty-four years in finding his mate, and the likelihood that he would find them was dwindling with every passing day. So why shouldn't he explore an alternative lifestyle and find some sort of companionship elsewhere?

He wasn't getting any younger, and he'd prefer to not end up as an old spinster due to his principles; which left him very few options in terms of a relationship. At least, he could read the article and see if he wanted to explore that avenue; if not then he would continue as he always had – alone.

With a shake of his head, Loki exited the restaurant and found himself on a busy Manhattan street. He was quickly swept away with the crowd that carried him towards one of the many skyscrapers in the distance. Once he was securely inside his office, he would scan over the article and toss it out afterwards if he didn't like what it said. But he suspected his loneliness might make preference a reality in the end.


	2. Chapter One :: The Smell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be on a roll, but that seems to always be the case with a new story.

* * *

 

**Chapter One :: The Smell**

 

* * *

 

The traffic was atrocious; worse than it was on any given day in the city. Loki had abandoned his cab two blocks ago and fought his way through the endless wave of pedestrians. He had an important meeting to be at within the coming hour; if he was lucky, he'd make it there with a few minutes to spare. But that really depended on if he could get to the client's conference room very soon; which he only hoped he could, if he could somehow push his way through the crowd quicker than he currently was.

It just happened to be his luck that Tony Stark was a man who felt most comfortable in his own building than at the law firm that Loki operated out of. Tony Stark was an important client whose every whim had to be met without complaint; even if said whims were absolutely unbelievable. Loki hadn't personally dealt with Stark on a business level beforehand, but he had had many encounters with him on a personal basis.

Stark was well-known for throwing parties; parties for anything and everything. The last occasion Loki had attended had been for Arbor Day, which had little to do with trees and more to do with copious amounts of alcohol and devolved into something far more devious by the end of the night that he wisely avoided; lest his professionalism be called into question later on, whenever everybody sobered up.

He cursed under his breath, as narrowly avoided a collision with a shrewd looking businesswoman and sidestepped several tourists that were gawking at the city, as if they hadn't seen skyscrapers before. Maybe if they lived in a cornfield they hadn't, and well Loki didn't care either way; except tourists congested an already heavily trafficked area. And if he was made late by one of them, he would give them a very warm and appropriate New York welcome for their troubles.

As he nearly avoided another harried business type, Loki felt a familiar vibration in his coat pocket. He could only imagine it being someone wanting to know where he currently was; even if he was technically early for the meeting, he was usually earlier than even this.

Without losing sight of his surroundings, he managed to free his phone and hit the answer button. The city was wildly loud around him; a never-ending cacophony of honking horns and the drone of thousands and thousands of people talking all at the same time. But he had quickly adapted to tuning such unnecessary sounds out in favor for what was on the other end of his phone.

"Odinson speaking," he said into the receiver, as he cut the corner haphazardly.

"Mr. Odinson, hello; this is Virginia Potts." The voice on the other end greeted him.

Virginia Potts was the newly appointed CEO of Stark Industries, after serving Stark faithfully as his personal assistant for close to twelve years. It also didn't go unknown that Stark and Potts were mated, although they somehow maintained a professional relationship even with that knowledge until recently; which seemed utterly stupid to Loki.

"Why hello, Miss Potts; I am currently on my way to Stark Industries."

"I heard there was a traffic jam, so I wanted to confirm if you'd be able to make the appointment. As you can imagine, Mr. Stark has a very busy schedule; I'd hate to have to reschedule."

"I've avoided the traffic and I'm currently on foot. I'm several blocks away, but I should be able to make it in time; if not a few minutes early. I wouldn't want to make you wait unnecessarily."

"Thank you, Mr. Odinson. I'm sure stories of Mr. Stark's short attention span have, well your co-workers no doubt have mentioned it." Miss Potts said in clear exasperation, which was a well-known reaction to whenever she mentioned her mate's many flaws; especially when it came to the business end of things.

The coupling between Stark and Potts was rather legendary. They seemed fairly incompatible and rumor had it that they hadn't really been mated at all. There had been cases of false matches; it wasn't exactly uncommon. So many had drawn to their own conclusions, until they actually seen them together and saw how in love they really were with one another.

It would be a lie to say that Loki wasn't jealous. He desperately wanted to find his mate; he'd foolishly gone from country to country in a futile attempt to find them, ater all. And some people met their mates extraordinarily easy and without any hardships at all. Of course, he'd be jealous over that!

"I have every intention of being on time, Miss Potts." He reassured as he passed by several bustling shop fronts.

The smell of baked goods and roasted coffee wafted past him appealingly. And then it hit him like a freight train; a smell that stopped him in mid-step and temporarily short-circuited his brain. His whole body reacted to it; his skin prickled and broke out in goose bumps, and his heart hammered faster and faster in his chest, as if he had run a marathon.

His consciousness seemed to zero in on that singular aspect in an always bustling city. The bodies that knocked into him, cursed him for his immobility, and Virginia Potts's squawking in his ear seemed so far away. All that seemed to matter was that smell; every fiber of his being wanted to be closer to that smell.

Uncoordinatedly, Loki moved into the direction in which the scent was strongest. He pushed through the crowd; becoming more and more forceful as he drew nearer to the origin of the smell. He knew physically, emotionally, and mentally what it meant. Every mating periodical in the country described how one felt when they could smell their mate in a crowd of people or even miles away.

 _His_ mate, _his_ omega was in this very city. The person he had so desperately sought out from the Netherlands to Vietnam was in the same city as him all this time. Or in the very least, they had come to the city; maybe with the exact same goal in mind – to find their alpha, to find _him_.

"Mr. Odinson, Mr. Odinson?" Miss Potts's voice echoed in his ear, which brought him somewhat back to himself; but not enough to cease him from jogging down the sidewalk in search of his mate.

"My mate," he blurted out, sounding intoxicated and disbelieving. "Found my…"

He never thought this day would come. Hell, only a week earlier he had considered a life of preference as opposed to biology; anything to stave away the loneliness. But now he didn't have to; he had a mate and they were close enough to taste and touch and hold.

Unbeknownst to him on how he did it, Loki had somehow disconnected the call between him and Virginia Potts and dropped his mobile phone back into his pocket; as he drew closer and closer to his mate. The smell was undeniably strong now and was making him feverous to the point of complete madness; undoubtedly lent to the fact, he'd gone thirty-four years without his mate and the shock of discovery was too much for him to handle.

His legs brought him nearer and nearer to the source of the scent, but something was suddenly very wrong. There was a distinctly harsh smell that intermingled with his mate's; a stench that was usually credited to an _alpha_. The odor was steely and heavy and earthy, yet the distinct smell of his mate was there too.

Confused, Loki followed the smell to its source; a golden haired, well-toned _alpha_ with a coffee cup in one hand and a half-eaten bagel in the other. He walked leisurely off to the side of the chaotic morning commute; he looked so unassuming and smelled so authentically alpha but he also smelled of _his_ mate as well.

Already beyond sound thought, Loki approached the man. Hundreds of thousands of questions buzzed in his head; he wanted to scream and cry and demand for this obvious alpha to explain why he smelled the way he did. And he suspected he might very well not like the reason why.

The golden haired man looked up at his approach; he'd taken a healthy bite of his bagel but hurried to chew it, probably to say something in reply to Loki's arrival. It looked like he thought better of saying anything, though; Loki could only imagine how crazed he must inevitably look but he could care less.

"You're an alpha." Loki almost snarled with disdain, although the heavenly aroma of his mate pulled him closer and closer. "I'm an alpha; that's impossible."

"I'm a taken alpha." The golden haired man blurted out, visibly flustered.

"Why do you…?" He reached out and grabbed at the collar of the worn leather jacket the other man had on, and unequivocally knew that the smell was permeating from it.

For several terse moments, they stood eyeing one another warily until understanding dawned on the golden haired man's face. He must have known what it felt like coming into close proximity with his biological mate, if he said was true; about being a taken alpha.

The puzzle pieces seemed to connect in the man's head, since he pulled away and wordlessly asked Loki to hold his coffee cup and half-eaten bagel; which he reluctantly took, once he realized his fellow alpha was trying to take off the leather jacket that smelled undeniably like his mate. The other man quickly pulled off the jacket and exchanged his breakfast for it, and watched Loki with curious anticipation when he took possession of the jacket.

Burying his nose into the lining of the jacket, Loki dissected the alpha smell from the one deeply embedded into the fabric. It was pure and unadulterated his mate, his omega; every nerve-ending in his body knew that. Every primal and biological sense that he had knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was true and he wanted to cry in relief because of it.

It had taken thirty-four years to get to this point; he had to watch everyone around him find their mates, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Every day for thirty-four years, he had felt the weight of uncertainty and desperation and loneliness; to the point where he had convinced himself he'd never find his omega. But the smell was there; it was irrefutable proof that he had found some piece of his mate.

"Why do you have this; where did you get it?" He managed to say, in between hardy sniffs that made his head spin pleasantly.

"I borrowed it from my best friend." The golden haired man replied.

"I need _my_ mate."

"This doesn't make any sense."

"You know what this feels like; you know the need." He buried his face into material; swept away by how whole he felt, even though he hadn't even met his mate yet.

"You probably shouldn't be on the street like this." The other man tossed away his breakfast into a nearby garbage can, before he grabbed him by the arm and steered him towards the curb with one hand raised to hail a taxi. "Especially if you really believe my best friend's your mate,"

"You're taking me to…?"

"I'm taking you to him, yes."

"Him," Loki absorbed that new information, and felt his heart jackhammer in his chest. His omega was male; he hadn't even thought about what gender they would be. He hadn't even cared, but now he knew definitively and he wanted so desperately to see _him_.

The reality of his current predicament truly hadn't set in, until his fellow alpha hailed them a taxi and helped him into the backseat; where he promised with a sincere smile that he could bring him to his mate. And for the first time in a very long time, Loki felt something light and airy overwhelm him because he was finally like everybody else. He had a mate and he had found him finally.


	3. Chapter Two :: False Positive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been bowled over by the responses I've gotten for this story. I didn't think that there were that many people who were interested in the Loki/Bucky pairing; so it's really delightful to know that you guys enjoyed the story so far! And I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

* * *

 

**Chapter Two :: False Positive**

 

* * *

 

The Brooklyn Bridge slowly ebbed into Loki's line of sight, as the taxi rolled its way through morning traffic. God only knew how long it would take before they reached their destination, but maybe it would be enough time for Loki to absorb why they were Brooklyn bound in the first place. He _loathed_ Brooklyn; he hated the trendy twenty-somethings that lived there, and everything that constituted its popularity of late.

For the most part, Loki never left Manhattan; he hadn't any conceivable reason to. His office and social life were smack-dab in the upper eastside of the city, and the only time he ventured outwards was for the annual summer parties in the Hamptons and holidays in Europe. But Brooklyn was certainly not a destination of his, and he couldn't help but scrunch up his face in confusion.

To be honest, he hadn't been very focused on his environment; all his senses had been preoccupied by the worn leather jacket in his hands. One that had to be well over ten years old, if it was any indication by the cracked leather and faded lining that had once been a handsome champagne color. So he hadn't really bothered to find out where they were going and how long it would take them to get there.

"Brooklyn," he managed to say, even though he buried his nose into the lining that extended into one of the jacket's sleeve.

"Bang on the money," his fellow alpha that sat beside him said light-heartedly.

Sometime in between first contact and driving outside of Manhattan, Loki had learned that his companion was named Steve. They hadn't exchanged anything beyond first names, and quite frankly Loki hadn't any interest in Steve. All he cared about was the task at hand, no less where it would inevitably take him; although conversation had been limited, mostly due to Loki's biological preoccupation with his mate's scent.

"Why are we going to Brooklyn?" He withdrew his face away the jacket, shooting Steve a wary look.

"Well, I told you I'd bring you to him; to Bucky."

"Bucky," he repeated. "Who on earth is that?"

Steve didn't immediately respond to the question, but his expression spoke for itself; which made Loki's stomach drop straight down to his feet. Despite not having many elaborate ideas about who inevitably would be his mate, Loki knew of the many things he _didn't_ want in one. The list was fairly extensive; one he had mentally compiled ever since he learned of alpha/omega dynamics when he was only a child.

The list had been tweaked and reworked as he'd grown older, and perhaps he'd gotten particularly picky with what he wanted in his mate. But really none of his demands were that unreasonable. He simply wanted a like-minded individual, who enjoyed intellectual conversations and was decently cultured. What he didn't want was some Brooklynite whose parents stupidly named him _Bucky_.

Unpleasant thoughts swirled endlessly through his head now; most of which conjured up an image of this Bucky and what he must be like. Loki envisioned a loudmouthed, greased up buffoon who spoke with his hands, and lamented about how Brooklyn was the only sensible place to live in the whole city, no less the entire planet. Heaven forbid if this Bucky ended up being one of those hipster types instead.

Clearly there must have been a mistake. Biology was a tricky thing and sometimes it wasn't an exact science; in other words, people's instincts had been fooled before and had been falsely mated to someone that had a similar DNA profile (not exactly related) to their intended mate. And if that were the case currently, god would only be so kind, then there wasn't any real reason to worry.

There was a logical reason behind all of this. Maybe his body had temporarily gone into shock and he'd been drawn to the closest omega stench in his vicinity. But that was a stretch even for him to believe; there had to have been hundreds of omegas making the daily commute down that particular block when he'd been struck by that smell. And none of them had drawn any reaction from him; none of them had smelled as alluring as the lining of the jacket currently in his possession.

False positives happened occasionally, everyone knew that; yet something told Loki, a deep and impenetrable force, that it couldn't possibly be the case for him. Every one of his nerve-endings felt as if they were electrified; his mind was heady with the scent on the jacket, and he just _knew_ that his mate possessed that odor. Every fiber of his being was convinced of it, regardless of the absurdity of the situation.

Whether or not he was pleased by the knowledge his mate was a Brooklynite called Bucky, it really didn't matter. The many hopes and desires he had wanted for his mate were downright pointless. His mate was his mate and his body was responding to physiological connection they inevitably shared.

"Why would his mother name him Bucky?" Loki swallowed hard; resisting the urge to bury his face into the jacket once more, and try to hide from the reality of his circumstance which seemed terribly bleak suddenly.

"No, no," Steve suddenly laughed. "His name isn't Bucky; not legally anyway. That's his nickname."

"His nickname,"

"No one calls him by his real name, you know aside from tax collectors and business types. But his real name is James."

"How do you get Bucky from James?"

"You don't." Steve smiled brightly, although Loki had the feverous urge to strangle him an inch within his life for being so cavalier about the situation. "His full name is James Buchanan Barnes; Bucky's from the Buchanan bit."

"James Buchanan Barnes," Loki repeated once, twice, and several more times under his breath. It was a solid name, almost elegant in its own way; even if he was named for a president that wasn't exactly well-known. But it was much better than simply being Bucky as he originally feared him to be.

Of course, that didn't mean much either. Nickname or not, his mate could still be some uncivilized tough guy whose education was barely on an intermediate level. How on earth could he possibly relate to someone like that?

"You know, I'm confused by this whole thing." Steve piped up once more.

"I believe that makes two of us."

"I always thought Buck was an alpha; hardcore alpha too."

"So you think this might be a false positive?" Loki asked, unable to conceal the hope that wheedled its way into his voice.

Steve shot him an unreadable look, although one might describe it as being protective. Maybe if they had been biologically compatible, Steve might have very well pursued this supposed alpha that might happen to be Loki's mate. There seemed to be an underlying reason for that look, albeit Loki wasn't about to ask since he really couldn't bring himself to care too much.

"I don't know what this is, but I know how it feels to be mated." Steve explained. "Once you're hit by your mate's smell, you just know. You feel dizzy and disoriented and everything becomes so much less important in comparison. It's heady and it's terrifying, but most of all when you see your mate everything feels complete; everything feels right. Like you never realized until that very moment how lonely you were until, well you aren't anymore because you have your mate in your life."

Those words struck a chord in Loki. Not only could he relate to the sensation of being mated, without even meeting Bucky; he already experienced the paralyzing bout of loneliness that Steve had described. Every day for thirty-four years, Loki had felt a void that loomed above his head and in his heart; and it had gotten progressively worse when he'd gotten older.

When Sif had found Fandral at the tender age of thirteen, Loki had been envious. When Thor had found Jane, he'd been insanely jealous. And when everyone around him begun to marry and live enriched lives, he'd been consumed by an internal misery that he tried to bury with the needs of his career and his wildly active social life.

His loneliness had been a debilitating thing. At times, although he'd never admitted it to anyone, it had been a chore to even get out of bed. Every year that passed without finding his mate, he found himself falling into a greater funk with no way out of it; which led to his European and Asian excursion.

"But if this Bucky, or rather James, is an alpha then this is impossible. Two alphas have never been mated before; it's biologically impossible."

"I wish I had some kind of answer for you, I really do." Steve said sympathetically. "Bucky doesn't smell like an omega to me; ever since we were little, he's always smelled like an alpha and acted like one too. I mean most omegas are kind of meek, but that's not Bucky. He's a take action sort of guy and saved my neck, whenever I got into a fight I couldn't win."

That description of this Bucky was undoubtedly alpha. Aggression was a key component of being an alpha; Loki, while dormant in many situations, had gotten into several fights in his youth with his brother Thor. There were times he'd drawn blood over the pettiest of arguments, which generally wasn't the way of an omega. Omegas had a tendency to be more reserved and passive, which could even out an alpha rather nicely.

Of course, there were always exceptions to the rule. Some omegas could be aggressors, as some alphas were meek. But their scents were distinct, and anyone could differentiate an alpha from an omega instinctively. And if what Steve said was true, then this whole messy business was even messier than he expected it to be.

"This must be a false positive." Loki looked out the window, as his hands tightened in the beaten-up leather of the jacket. "Maybe your friend lent this to someone else; maybe the smell is from my omega."

"I highly doubt that, with all due respect." Steve returned gently, almost in a way that a parent spoke to a young child. "That's Bucky's favorite jacket; he only let me borrow it because I'd forgotten mine at home a few days ago. I was going to give it back to him this afternoon when I got back to Brooklyn."

"It has to be a false positive." Loki said more to himself than Steve; yet every one of his senses told him otherwise. Every single one of his instincts told him that he possessed an item that had touched his omega's skin; wrapped itself protectively around his body and kissed and caressed every inch of his skin that deserved such attentions.

There had to be a reasonable explanation for his physiological reaction. Somewhere along the way, this Bucky could have come into close contact with a pliant omega and possibly lent out his jacket for a short period of time to them. Because there was simply no way that he could be attracted to a fellow alpha; that was against his nature. That was against every alpha's nature.

Soon enough, once they crossed into Brooklyn; Loki would inevitably get his answers. He'd met this crass and obonoxious Brooklynite, pureblooded New Yorker, with a foolish nickname and probably a loud and relentless attitude that should stay in dirty alleyways and outside delis and bodegas on every other street corner in the city. And he'd know definitively that he had yet to find his mate, which would be both a blessing and a curse. But mostly it would be a curse.


	4. Chapter Three :: Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kind of embarrassing how quickly I'm writing this story. But on a side note, I listened to Woodkid's song "Brooklyn" quite a lot while writing this. It's always struck me as a Bucky sort of song (I actually think I heard it on a Bucky playlist months ago).

* * *

 

**Chapter Three :: Bucky**

 

* * *

 

By midday, they had finally reached their destination. The cab pulled in front of a block filled with businesses that were tightly nestled together. None of them were remotely eye-catching, and Loki felt his reservations bubble up once more; because really his mate couldn't be of this low of caliber, not when he was making up towards eight million annually in comparison.

Money shouldn't have equated into the picture, yet Loki found more and more reason to worry about the minors details as opposed to the overall situation. Maybe it was lent to the fact that he had worked himself into grandest of denials about finally finding his mate. Seeing as there wasn't any way that two alphas could mate, no matter what anyone said.

There had been many heated debates in recent years, where some liberal fast-thinkers believed that it was socially acceptable for two alphas or two omegas to be in a loving relationship with one another; which was as strange of a concept as preference versus biology (although the two intersected for obvious reasons). And while some people might have believed there was nothing wrong with two alphas settling down with one another, every bell and whistle in Loki's head said otherwise.

"I'll pay for the cab fee." Loki turned his eyes away from the ghastly environment, before he slipped his wallet out of one his coat's inner pockets and pulled out his credit card. He ignored Steve, who looked about to protest, and handed the card to the cabbie.

Once the transaction had been completed, Loki reluctantly slipped out of the vehicle's backseat and into the brisk afternoon air. Brooklyn was lively as every nook and cranny of the city normally was; people hustled down sidewalks single-mindedly. Music wafted from an open window somewhere up the street, while a roar of the quintessential New York accent passed him by at every turn.

Wherever you went in the city, you were bound to hear that brass and harsh accent. But for whatever reason, it seemed so much more prominent in Brooklyn and exactly in the spot where he was currently standing. It made his skin crawl; he would have climbed back into the cab, had it not chosen that exact moment to drive away in a cloud of exhaust just when the thought entered his mind, and effectively abandoning him there for god knows how long.

He really shouldn't be there; his schedule was jam packed with appointments. There were so many things he needed to finish by the day's end, and he already blew off Tony Stark on some false lead that his body simply couldn't ignore. His partners at the law firm were bound to give him grief about this indiscretion, even though he had accumulated enough "mate leave" for probably a solid year. And it was against the law to terminate someone based on alpha/omega purposes. That, however, didn't mean Loki would be free from a reprimanding once he returned to the office.

"Well, here we are." Steve stepped onto the curb beside him, now in possession of the leather jacket which Loki had forgone for his satchel instead; although he felt compelled to wretch it from Steve's hand and maybe strike him for even touching it.

"Where are we supposed to be exactly?" He asked, as he eyed each building critically.

"This way," Steve started up the street, not waiting to see if Loki would follow him. Because obviously he would, even if he knew how utterly pointless this whole endeavor was bound to be.

Loki followed after Steve, who greeted anyone that crossed his path; almost as if he was the most popular guy on the block. That probably wasn't far from the truth either; Steve did have a genuine and kindly aura about him. Why else would he lead a total stranger to his supposed mate without any monetary gain? Steve hadn't even mentioned anything in terms of payment; he just brought Loki here out of the goodness of his heart, which was a rare trait nowadays.

That sort of attitude had gotten people killed more often than not, but Steve was built like a brick house; and it was pretty apparent that no one could get away with robbing him, or even picking a fight with him without dire results. In a way, he was a lot like Thor but with a milder temperament; Loki had yet to hear Steve bellow in excitement or brag incessantly about his offspring, as if he created a cure for the common cold and colonized the moon within the scope of a nine month period of time.

"Bucky's at work right now; it shouldn't be a problem if we drop by, though."

"Well, at least he has a job." Loki uttered under his breath, which thankfully went unheard by Steve.

They walked farther up the street, before eventually turning a corner to where the trendy residents of the borough seemed to mingle with the old school, no-nonsense ones. Loud conversations in Italian erupted somewhere to Loki's left-hand side, laced intermittently with English. Steve didn't pay it any heed, so Loki didn't either and instead focused on the way the leather jacket swayed loosely by Steve's hip as he walked.

The urge to reach out and snatch the jacket away, suddenly became very important to Loki. His mind became hyper-focused on that tiny little detail, which seemed to ease the stress of everything else temporarily. So long as he could focus on one thing then everything would inevitably be all right; maybe not for long, but at least for the time being.

Unfortunately, it didn't last very long. Steve slowed his steps and motioned towards a non-descript building squashed between two others. The brick had been painted a midnight blue, almost black, color but the elements had already taken its toll on it. A large window with elaborately stenciled font took up much of the storefront, and gave a passer-by a good look inside.

"One-oh-seven tattoos," Loki read aloud, before he shot his fellow alpha a befuddled look.

"Best tattoo shop in Brooklyn," Steve smiled proudly at the establishment, before his expression shifted to bashful. "I mean if I were into that sort of thing."

Loki didn't bother to reply; his mind was elsewhere, light years away. He didn't know what awaited him inside the building in front of him, and he found he was both terrified and secretly elated by meeting Bucky. He had to believe that he had found the first link in a long chain that would lead him to his rightful omega. Bucky was probably _not_ his mate, but he could help Loki find out who was.

Wordlessly, he watched as Steve pushed open the tattoo parlor's door and motioned for Loki to go inside first; which he did automatically. Once he stepped foot into the building, his nostrils flared with the scent of too few omegas in the air. The girl perched behind the front desk was clearly an omega but not the one he was looking for.

"Hey, there Sharon," Steve greeted the girl, who looked tailored made for an Ivy League university than a dingy tattoo parlor in Brooklyn. "Is Bucky busy?"

"Are you finally going to take the leap and get a tattoo, Steve?"

"You know me; I'm not a fan of needles, never have been. But this is kind of serious."

"He's working on a sleeve right now; the appointment was at ten, so he should be done soon enough. He's usually quick." The girl, Sharon, said. "Have a seat and he'll be right with you."

Loki heard Steve murmur a 'thank you' out, only to approach him and point to a black loveseat nestled against a wall that was covered in laments filled with body art on them. Hundreds of images that ranged from old school sailor tattoos to the more contemporary Japanese style drew Loki's eyes, and made him feel as displaced as the girl behind the receptionist desk inevitably was.

If anyone had told him that morning, he would be standing in a tattoo parlor in Brooklyn; he wouldn't have believed it for a second. Yet here he was and awkwardly dropping down onto a lumpy cushion beside Steve; a man he had only known for a few hours now but trusted inexplicitly for some unknown reason, which really wasn't a bad thing. At least there was one constant in this whirlwind affair that had taken over his life.

Without any prompting to do so, Steve suddenly offered the leather jacket back to him. Generally speaking, Loki had a rather good hold on his emotions; his impulses were decently in-check as well. He should have received jacket in a more suitable manner than he did. He shouldn't have practically ripped it away from Steve, and buried his face back into the lining as if it were a child's security blanket. But he really couldn't help himself.

The scent of his mate calmed him, while simultaneously driving him insane. His body was becoming more and more restless, until he found himself fidgeting and shifting unnecessarily beside Steve. Which only worsened his already maddening thoughts, and how his initial hopes for finding his mate had been effectively shattered by both disappointment and the realization James Buchanan Barnes was a bona fide alpha.

Hours seemed to tick away at a snail's speed, before the sound of voices drifted to the front of the building. Two stereotypical Brooklyn accents in mid-conversation drew Loki's attention away from the jacket and eventually to a burly looking guy, who'd Loki seen on previous occasions but only briefly. The man who appeared was Tony Stark's personal driver and bodyguard, who had a stupid nickname just like Bucky's, which happened to be Happy.

Then it hit him; the smell that had initially drawn him to Steve in the first place filled his nose. It wasn't as powerful as it should have been, though; almost as if it was being chemically smothered by something. Some of the well-documented side of effects of brand-name heat suppressants was the dampening of one's natural odor and that was the only explanation for why he hadn't smelled it earlier on when he should have.

Loki struggled onto his feet, drawn completely to the source of the smell; which happened to be the man behind Happy. He was several inches shorter than Stark's driver, but by no means small. He was dressed in a thin black V-neck tee-shirt with a heavy silver chain around his neck and a pair of ripped jeans that exposed bits of his knees and thighs. One of his arms, the left one, was completely covered in tattoos. And his face, _his face_ , was the most beautiful sight Loki had ever seen.

Loki's heart pounded wildly in his chest as he tried to study every little detail about the man only feet away from him; it became incredibly difficult to do though, when the smile that spread across his face froze into place and those beautiful blue eyes widened, and shifted onto Loki. In that very instant, thirty-four years of loneliness faded away.

"Hey, Buck." Steve greeted somewhere to Loki's right side, although his tone was cautious and uncertain.

"S-Sharon, ring up the bill; I need to…I need to…" Bucky spoke and every nerve-ending in Loki's body sizzled with affection and desire so deep, he was sure it would drive him crazy within seconds.

Despite his many lessons on how to approach your mate once you found them, Loki tossed them all away in favor for physical contact instead. He dropped both his satchel and Bucky's jacket to the ground, before he practically shoved past Happy so he could be closer to his mate.

Bucky was so much more beautiful than Loki ever expected he'd be. Every line and groove and especially his cleft chin only added to his attractiveness, and made Loki _love_ him even more. He _loved_ Bucky so fiercely without any hesitation or without a second thought, and he'd do anything for him; absolutely anything.

As soon as he could, Loki wrapped his arms around Bucky and pulled him close. He buried his nose in his perfectly coiffed hair, and inhaled the heavy scent of aftershave and breath mints and the lighter smell of perspiration; which was only the top layer to his distinctive scent. And he was grateful to smell his scent so much clearly now that he was close.

Shyly, Loki felt Bucky's arms slip around him too; before he audibly inhaled and let out a shuddering breath of what could only be described as contentment. They stayed that way for several preciously perfect moments, simply basking in finally finding one another after so many years of being alone. Loki couldn't be any happier if he tried; everything made so much sense now that he had his mate in his arms, every fear he had harbored on the way into Brooklyn seemed to have dissipated once he laid eyes on Bucky.

He hadn't any reason to be concerned by his mate being a Brooklynite and apparent tattoo artist; maybe he even spoke with a trademark New Yorker's accent, but all that mattered to Loki was that Bucky was in his arms, and nothing could shatter the moment…

"Who the hell is this guy?" Bucky blurted out then in a thick Brooklyn accent, loud and obnoxious and enough to kill any happiness Loki had established in that short period of time.

This was so _wrong_ ; bad, horrible, unbelievable. He was _not_ mated with this idiot at all. There was no way in hell; none. But even as his happiness wilted and his disgust grew, Loki couldn't let go of Bucky even if he tried; and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his life had just gotten so much more complicated than it ever had been before.


	5. Chapter Four :: Miracle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just sit over here, ashamed by how much I've been updating of late.

* * *

 

**Chapter Four :: Miracle**

 

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Bucky Barnes was everything that Loki _didn't_ want in a mate. He spoke in a louder decibel than what was absolutely necessary, and had a predilection towards explosive hand gestures to convey whatever he was saying. Not to mention, he had very little interest in being touched by Loki; at least he didn't beyond their first embrace.

Loki wanted nothing more than to touch every available inch of Bucky, as any alpha was known to want. But he wasn't given that opportunity, and was forced instead to watch the disgusting display of Steve and his mate devouring greasy diner french fries from a plate; which honestly wasn't something he found to be remotely attractive at all.

"Total bust," Bucky was midway through a conversation that Loki hadn't bothered to follow, and still didn't care to listen to; although every physiological response wanted to be in-tune with his mate. "And I told him, but did he listen? No,"

"Jesus, Buck," Steve replied, sounding so much more Brooklyn-like than he had before; as if his internal instinct was to blend in with the crowd by speaking as the locals did.

"Told him 'til I was blue in the face,"

"Can't help those, who can't help themselves," Steve affirmed, before his eyes fell onto Loki; who was seated across from the duo in a shoddy red vinyl booth. "Listen, Bucky; I had some questions and I bet you have some too. Because this really doesn't make any sense,"

After initial contact, Steve had suggested that they take the inevitable conversation elsewhere. So they ended up in a local diner a few blocks away from the 107 tattoo parlor. But they hadn't spent any time actually discussing the situation; in fact, Bucky hadn't spoken a word to Loki at all which was worse than being insulted and belittled.

For whatever reason, Bucky didn't appear to have developed the immediate bond with him that the majority of mates did. There were innumerable reports on how one generally reacted to their mate, once they finally found one another. Loki's response was considerably normal, whereas Bucky's was not; simply because he hadn't any response at all.

"What doesn't make sense?" Bucky asked with a fry halfway to his mouth.

"Don't play dumb," Steve tilted his head towards Loki. "We came here for a reason."

"Oh right _that;_ so where do we start?"

"For one I'm curious about your status; your friend here believes you're an alpha, and you do act like one. But I wouldn't gravitate towards an alpha; I know that much about myself." Loki finally spoke and felt his heart pound wildly in his chest; especially since Bucky finally looked at him with his big blue emotive eyes.

"Maybe you aren't an alpha, pal. Have you ever thought of that?"

"Anyone with a sense of smell could tell you otherwise."

"And Bucky doesn't smell like an omega; actually, he doesn't smell much like anything." Steve chimed in, before having the gall to lean in and press his nose to Bucky's shoulder and sniff him.

The possessive side in Loki flared up like a wildfire; it took every ounce of self-control not to lurch across the table and violently throttle Steve. After all, there was an intimacy attached to smell; mates frequently smelled one another to establish some sort of equilibrium when distressed by their environment, and it was highly inappropriate for an outside party to take that liberty. Steve should have known better.

"He does have a scent, but it's subtle." Loki pinned Bucky with an unwavering stare. "Probably lent to the fact that he must be on heat suppressants,"

"Only omegas are on heat suppressants," Steve looked befuddled as he lifted his head, despite undoubtedly knowing his friend was more than likely an omega. "Or at least they're on a heavy dosage; but even then you can generally smell them."

Heat suppressants were crucial for any unattached omega to use. Alphas were sometimes prescribed a low dosage to balance out their aggression, while their mate was in heat. Bucky, however, must have been on an unhealthy dosage to cause him to be almost odorless.

Something fleeted across Bucky's face then, which resembled what a caged animal undoubtedly looked like. It was apparent that this wasn't a topic he wanted to discuss, no less in such a public place; but they really didn't have the luxury of privacy. Loki knew Bucky wouldn't take him anywhere, where things could progress between them as they should.

"So what," Bucky said in a haughty tone. "I'm on heat suppressants; big deal."

"Then it's true, you're an omega; Bucky why didn't you say something?"

"Because I didn't have to tell you," Bucky shot Steve an angry look, which he transferred onto Loki moments later. "And I don't owe you anything, buddy. Whatever convoluted idea you have about us, well it isn't going to happen; not now, not ever."

Those words were sharper than a serrated blade, and cut Loki to his very core. There had only been a handful of publicized cases where one mate rejected the other, and Loki hadn't believed that it was in the realm of possibility for him; that his mate wouldn't want him. He had always believed things would work out flawlessly for him, once he found his mate. The greatest obstacle had been finding Bucky; it wasn't supposed to end up like this, though.

Desperation and anxiety clawed its way up Loki's spine, as he witnessed the finality on Bucky's face. He didn't show even the smallest sign that it wounded him to say those words; as if he really didn't share a connection with Loki as he should have. And that only made Loki's desperation that much more apparent; he couldn't live without Bucky, no matter how far he deviated from what Loki had always wanted in mate. He couldn't go on without him now.

"You're not thinking clearly here, Buck." Steve looked panicked; no doubt aware of what rejection could do to anyone after finding their mate.

"Actually, I think I'm the only one who is. I'm not muddled up by some crazy instinct and that's because I can't be. I can't feel what you feel, buddy. I don't have the capacity to; sad but true."

"What are you talking about? Of course, you have the capacity to feel a connection between yourself and your alpha. Everyone has that biological response, Bucky."

"There's a reason why they don't overdose you on heat suppressants when you're a kid, Steve." Bucky said flippantly, while reaching for another ketchup-drenched french fry.

The amount of research currently out there about alpha/omega dynamics was overwhelming. Every other day there was a new study out with some new discovery about every tiny detail about the nature of humanity. Not many people were that well-informed, though; hell, most people generally stuck to the basics and let nature takes it course for the most part.

The majority of people, at least, were well aware of the fact why giving children any medication (more specifically heat suppressants) was a bad idea. Children weren't generally categorized as either alpha or omega until they were on the cusp of puberty. There might be telltale signs of a child's status early on, but it was highly frowned upon to use preventive actions to squash their instincts before they were fully developed.

If Bucky had been medicated early on, then that would explain his cavalier attitude. Maybe he really couldn't feel the connection that Loki did. And the likelihood that he'd never feel it seemed to be decently high at this point.

"When the hell did they put you on heat suppressants? But importantly why did they?" Steve demanded, seemingly more outraged than Loki was; although his outrage was an underlying response in comparison to the heartache he was currently experiencing.

"Do you remember where we grew up, you punk?" Bucky scoffed. "We lived in a boys' home; filled with boys that were all _alphas_. The sisters thought I was an alpha too; I was the toughest kid on the block and picked fights with everyone. But one day, some older kid started sniffing around me like a goddamn dog about to piss on his territory. And he kept doing it, until the sisters put two and two together and figured out I wasn't like the rest of you. So they put me on heat suppressants."

"Christ, how old were you?"

"Seven, eight maybe,"

"Don't take them anymore." Loki spoke up, brimming with more than just heartache now. He was angry; angry that anyone thought it was a good idea to put a child, _his_ mate on medication so early on and effectively destroyed what should have been a joyous meeting.

He had waited too long for this to happen, and he would be a fool if he allowed Bucky to push him away now. Certainly, he could return to Manhattan with his tail between his legs; but that wasn't going to happen. Not when he could have his mate somehow.

"Did you say something? Because it sounded like you did, and big surprise with the stereotypical alpha bullshit,"

"Can you honestly say you're doing yourself any favors now? You're taking a drug that hinders your ability to feel. Maybe you cannot feel as intensely as I can, but there's a high likelihood that you can at least feel our connection if you stopped taking those heat suppressants."

"Listen, buddy I don't want to feel it! I don't have any interest in being some snobby British guy's boy toy!"

"You are _my_ omega; you aren't my boy toy! I've gone thirty-four years without you, and I won't bloody go without you for another moment longer!" Loki practically snarled; ready and willing to do whatever was in his power to keep Bucky by his side. Even if that meant moving heaven and earth to accomplish it, he'd do it.

Several terse moments passed in between them, before Bucky laughed loudly. The sound reverberated in Loki's bones and made his heart soar, although it was short lived. It wasn't a happy laugh or even a remotely amused one; it was bitter and angry and a little terrifying too.

"Here's my advice for you, so you better listen really closely because I'm only going to say this once – you can go fuck yourself. You can get your ass back to Manhattan and stay there. I don't want you sniffing around here anymore, okay. Because if I do see you, you're not going to like what you see; I'm not some cute little omega that'll roll over and take it." Bucky pushed himself out of his seat, before leaning into Loki with a smile. "Next time you come around here, I'll kill you; do you understand me?"

"Then I suggest you get your affairs in order, my love. Because I will be back; I'll come back for you, regardless of your crass attitude and your insufferable accent and your inability to feel what I feel. And the only way you'll get rid of me is to kill me." Loki leaned in as well and tried to memorize every feature of his omega's face because he knew he'd be deprived of it soon enough. "I'll _never_ leave you alone; _never_."

Bucky pushed away from the booth and Loki alike; his expression was unreadable, but his eyes were stormy. Without another word, he stomped away and shoved the door open; before he disappeared back into the heavily trafficked street outside.

Loki wanted to follow after him, yet he knew better. He already made his stance known, and he wasn't going to back down now. He was well-known for his ruthlessness in the court room and in every board room he'd ever stepped foot into. And he didn't see any reason to change his approach when it came to this situation.

One way or another, he would win Bucky over. He could bid his time; not to mention he had a powerful ally on his side that clearly cared about his well-being, and wouldn't let him do anything detrimental to his own health. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt.

"I'll need your help." He admitted, as his eyes landed on Steve, who looked torn between staying or running after Bucky.

"I think you'll need more than my help, buddy. You'll need a miracle."


	6. Chapter Five :: Yearning for Brooklyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't much to say beyond - I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 

**Chapter Five :: Yearning for Brooklyn**

 

* * *

 

The city spread out as far as the eye could see; it was the key selling point on why Loki had purchased this specific apartment. From living room to kitchen to master suite, you could see a good portion of the Upper East Side's skyline. But it was impossible to see any part of Brooklyn, which was the only sight that seemed appealing to Loki at that moment.

It had been well over twenty-four hours (more precisely thirty-one) since he'd made first contact with Bucky. Quite frankly, it hadn't been his idea to stay away from Bucky for so long; however, he'd been advised by Steve to stay away. Bucky needed time to think, and to get used to the fact that he had an alpha ready to be with him from this day forward.

Even though Loki understood why it was important to maintain his distance, it didn't make it any less torturous for him. Every single instinct that he had screamed to be near Bucky; it didn't feel right to be so far apart from him, after they spent years without one another. And yet he was being forced to maintain his distance for the time being, in the hope that he'd been invited closer eventually.

Patience wasn't a virtue he often exercised, but it was critical that he give Bucky some space. Any overly aggressive move could cause more damage than good, and the last thing he wanted to do was lose his opportunity to be with his mate. So he would bid his time for now until his urges couldn't be controlled any longer.

"Your mind's elsewhere, Loki." Someone said from behind him, although he couldn't bring himself to look away from the cityscape in front of him. "You know Sif will start to ask questions. And when Sif begins to ask questions, she can be ever the ruthless one."

"I'm well-aware of your wife's persistency, Fandral." He sighed and wished he had the foresight to cancel his dinner plans earlier in the day. Unfortunately, that would have only drawn out Sif's nosy side even more and she would have ended up on his doorstep one way or another.

Despite his desire to remain firmly planted in front of the wall-length windows, he turned to observe Fandral who'd taken to studying his bookcase and reading the titles residing there. There were hundreds of books that ranged from Shakespeare to Chaucer to Dickens, and even more contemporary titles too. Many of his law books had taken refuge there as well, even though they should have been in his home office instead.

"Then I'd recommend you nip the situation in the bud, if you would like to maintain your sanity." Fandral grinned widely.

"I loathe when you are right, Fandral."

"Everyone does, love."

"What are we talking about?" Sif asked as she entered the room with a fruity cocktail in hand; the picture of sophistication in a form fitting black dress and impossibly high heels.

"Your perceptiveness, darling," Fandral pulled down a book from one of the many shelves. "And how it would be in Loki's best interest, if he comes clean and tells you what on earth could be distracting him so."

It was hardly surprising that Fandral would open up the conversation, even before Loki was ready to. The dynamics between Fandral and Sif were well-tuned, to the point that they oftentimes seemed able to read each other's minds. Their bond was a special one, and their relationship had been featured in several research reports years ago. Mostly because they had bonded so early and it was deemed cruel by a slew of psychologists to keep them apart; which ended with the two of them alternating between one another's homes on any given day of the week throughout their adolescence.

Loki sorely wanted the same for him and Bucky. He craved for the admiration and understanding that was evident between his friends. But more importantly, he wanted Bucky to want him; to feel the same connection that they inevitably shared, and feel out of his element whenever Loki wasn't around.

"Don't tell me you're still angry about that article I showed you. I didn't mean any harm by it, Loki." Sif walked further into the room; the regret radiating from her was palpable. "I just thought you'd be interested in some other options, that's all."

"Water under the bridge," Loki said dismissively. "I've had a lot on my mind; I missed a critical meeting with Tony Stark yesterday morning. Thankfully, he was kind enough to see me this afternoon; although my partners weren't pleased by my impulsivity."

"Impulsivity, _you_ ," Fandral laughed. "You are the most reliable person I have ever met; surely it was a misunderstanding."

Loki had been called many things over the years, some of which weren't remotely flattering, and reliable had been one of them. Throughout his career, he had missed very few days. The longest he'd been away from his current position was when he'd gotten the flu almost five years ago. Otherwise, he had been there day in and day out; the definition of reliable until yesterday morning.

While his excuse had been a solid one, it still hadn't made his partners happy. The only saving grace was that Tony Stark had been understanding enough to reschedule; although he had made some inappropriate jokes about how he understood why Loki finding his mate took precedent over a business meeting. Luckily, Miss Potts had been there to reprimand Stark and steer the conversation into the correct direction.

"That's unlike you." Sif stared at him critically, in an obvious attempt to dissect him and find out what was amiss.

"I'm fully aware."

"Something happened; something bad, maybe. That's the only way you'd miss a meeting."

"I don't know what I would call the situation I've fallen into." He admitted, as he turned back to the window and wished for the umpteenth time that evening, that he could at least see the Brooklyn Bridge and know unequivocally that Bucky was out there somewhere.

More than once, Loki had been overwhelmed by the urge to call Steve. They had exchanged numbers and while they had a brief exchange via text message that morning; he wanted to hear Steve's thoughts about the situation. He wanted to know when it was safe to go back to Brooklyn for Bucky.

"You know you can tell me anything."

"And by extension me," Fandral added in.

"I haven't any doubt about that." Loki closed his eyes, easily conjuring up the distinct color of Bucky's eyes. "I found myself in Brooklyn yesterday."

"Brooklyn," Sif repeated. "But you hate Brooklyn; why on earth would you go to Brooklyn? You won't even visit your brother in Long Island."

"I despise Brooklyn; that hasn't changed at all. But I had to go there and I'll have to go back soon because my mate is in Brooklyn."

"Your mate," Fandral echoed, before bursting into an excited laugh. "That's great news; Sif's been worried sick that you'd never find them, and now you have!"

"Oh yes, if only things were that simple. I've been blessed with an omega that was given heat suppressants as a pre-pubescent child, and cannot sense our connection at all. In fact, he's incredibly hostile and threatened to kill me if I pursued him." He bit out and felt his sorrow expand, like it was a balloon in the center of his chest.

Neither Sif nor Fandral responded to his declaration. The words echoed off the apartment's walls and were eventually absorbed into the plaster like some kind of mold that would come back and kill him in the end. Even if his determination was unwavering, Loki couldn't say definitively if Bucky would ever accept him.

Steve hadn't elaborated on Bucky's emotional state during their exchange either. It was probably to spare Loki of anymore grief. Because he really couldn't say that he'd be able to handle any bad news at this point. And Bucky's disdain was one thing that threatened to undo him.

Wordlessly, Sif set her cocktail onto the top of his baby grand piano; before she closed the distance in between them and pulled him into a one-armed embrace. It was the right amount of physical contact and Sif instinctively knew as much without it getting too terribly sentimental.

"There's bound to be a solution, Loki."

"I believe there is, but I highly doubt my mate will be so kind to test it. He downright refused to stop taking those bloody heat suppressants of his."

"That isn't your main concern, mate." Fandral piped in again, drawing both Loki and Sif's attention.

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"You have to find out why your mate refuses to stop taking those heat suppressants. Obviously, there's an underlying reason for it and the only way you'll ever get him to agree to wean off of them is to find out why."

"Inferiority complex; he's an omega that yearns to be an alpha."

"Might be so, but I guarantee you won't be doing yourself any favors by being your know-it-all self. Alphas with superiority complexes will only cause a bigger rift between you and your mate. What you need to do is have him agree to see a specialist; I know of a good one too, whenever you get to that point." Fandral slid the book he'd taken from shelf back in place, before offering Loki a tight-lipped smile. "Dr. Bruce Banner is a world-renowned psychiatrist, specializing in omegas."

"That's all well and good for the future, Fandral. But what should Loki do until they get to that point?" Sif asked with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

"Respect what his mate wants, of course."

"Yes, because his request to be left alone forever is reasonable." Loki snarled and pulled away from Sif. "I will not live without him; that's non-negotiable. I will have my mate one way or another and he will learn to love me."

"I wonder why he might have reservations about you." Fandral made a face. "That alpha aggression will get you nowhere."

"That's funny because I distinctly recall Sif being rather physical with you, once she recognized you were her omega. And look at you two now; bonded and mated for over twenty years."

"Oh, there's a huge difference between our situation and yours, Loki. I knew Sif was my mate and felt instantly drawn to her. Your mate doesn't feel that bond, and evidently doesn't want anything to do with you. So you will not be doing yourself any favors by being a brute."

"I am not a brute." He retorted hotly, but fell short of going on a lengthy tirade which deemed totally justifiable. His phone pinged somewhere close-by and in an instant he shot across the room to take possession of it; hoping that it would be the one person he wanted to hear from.

He had left his phone on the coffee table, after he'd spent hours trying to stop himself from contacting Steve beyond what was absolutely necessary. It had been a difficult feat to even leave his phone unattended to, when he thought Steve might attempt to get in touch with him at any given moment. And there was a great possibility that whoever left him a message could potentially be Steve.

Snatching his phone from the coffee table, Loki unlocked the screen and brought up his newest message. His heart immediately soared at the sight of Steve's name, but it was nothing in comparison to the attachment sent his way. Steve had sent him a candid shot of Bucky; he was crouched down with a beer between his feet and his tee-shirt hiked up a bit to expose a strip of pale skin, with his brow furrowed and hyper-focused on something off screen.

_"We're watching the Red Sox and the Yanks. He mentioned you, and said you'd probably be a Red Sox fan; he hissed like a cat when he said it. Trying to make progress; I'll get through to him somehow. Don't worry."_

"Bloody hate baseball," Loki muttered under his breath, albeit he couldn't help but smile anyway. His mate was a stereotypical New York tough guy, and he couldn't have loved him any more than he already did. And things would work out somehow; Steve would see to it, he was sure of that.


	7. Chapter Six :: Bleaker Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a bit of time to write; I don't know if I'm happy with it or not. But with the coming chapter I'm going to switch perspectives to Bucky and see how that goes.

* * *

 

**Chapter Six :: Bleaker Still**

 

* * *

 

Twilight didn't make Brooklyn any more attractive to Loki, he realized as he leisurely walked up the eroded sidewalk. The streets were still lively; filled with hundreds of conversations and various emotions, and thousands of ideas. But none interested Loki in any way; his mind was elsewhere, focused on one destination feet away from him.

Many of the businesses along the way had already closed for the night; their windows blacked out and uninhabited. Others still glowed brilliantly in the shadows, although none seemed more welcoming than the one with dark blue bricks, wedged in between a pawn shop and used book shop. The very sight of it twisted Loki's insides uncomfortably but anticipatorily too.

It had been three days since his initial visit, and he couldn't bear to stay away any longer. Logically he knew the benefits of maintaining his distance and bidding his time, but instinct proved to be so much important in comparison. His need to be close to his mate was an endless itch at the forefront of his mind that he simply couldn't ignore anymore.

Steve had warned him multiple times why approaching Bucky was a bad idea. Any mention of him seemed to automatically cause Bucky disquiet; he'd allegedly became irritable and annoyed, regardless of the fact that he oftentimes brought Loki up in conversation first. And in a way that was a positive step in the right direction, because at least Bucky had him on his mind; whether or not it was negative was irrelevant.

With some time, Loki believed Bucky would warm up to the idea of being his mate. But the problem would be trying to maintain his distance, when every instinct told him otherwise. He yearned to be close to Bucky; his hands wanted to touch him incessantly, to map out every groove and imperfection on his body. He wanted to kiss Bucky; to memorize his taste and warmth of his mouth against his tongue, and become dizzy on him.

Those thoughts had plagued him endlessly. He dreamt of Bucky in the most vulnerable positions, compliant and eager to please; the way an omega had been described to Loki since he'd been old enough to understand. Yet that didn't seem to be in the scope of reality at the moment; maybe not ever, but he had to have some faith.

Enthusiasm and excitement began to bubble in Loki's chest, as he came closer to 107 Tattoos. The lights shone brightly through the front window and illuminated the pavement just outside the tattoo parlor. Several people were inside the front room; some admiring the artwork on the walls, while others sat and waited for their appointment.

Sharon, the blonde who'd been there previously, was perched behind her desk and in mid-conversation with a heavily tattooed woman. Despite having an appearance that clashed with the establishment, Sharon seemed perfectly at ease with her surroundings and all too happy to talk with the patrons that approached her; it was rather admirable, to say the least.

Pausing outside the door, Loki took a moment to collect his thoughts. Bucky was bound to be inside that very building and his emotions were in a tizzy because of it. He really didn't know how gracefully he'd be received (probably not gracefully at all), but he hoped Bucky would at least speak to him.

Once he mentally prepared himself, he pushed open the door and was struck by the sound of pulse-throbbing music and loud conversation. None of it really computed, though; not when he had a singular goal in mind that knotted up his insides. He, however, still managed to walk up to the desk as authoritatively as he could; which drew Sharon's attention away from the woman she'd been speaking with.

Recognition sparked in her eyes, shortly followed by a small smile. He wondered what side of the fence she was on in terms of his and Bucky's complicated situation. But he suspected she wouldn't have smiled at him at all, if she sided with Bucky.

"You must be looking for Bucky." She said sweetly, before she gathered up several stray pieces of paper off her desk, and offered them to him. "He should be in the office; it's the last door down the hall. You can't miss it. And if you could pass these on to him, I'd be very grateful."

"It would be my pleasure, miss…?"

"Sharon Carter,"

"Loki Odinson,"

"You mean _the_ Loki Odinson?" Sharon's eyes widened. "I'm sorry, but I'm actually studying to be a lawyer myself. Some of your cases we've discussed at length."

"Well, I'm flattered to hear that. I imagine you'll make a wonderful lawyer, Miss Carter." Loki offered as charmingly as could, even though he was hyper-focused on where his mate inevitably was. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Beyond the bustling front room was a narrow hallway; artwork covered the walls from top to bottom and several doors ran opposite it. Some of the doors were left open, revealing several tattoo artists in the midst of their craft. Loki only spared them a quick glance but nothing more; he found the whole process to be rather barbaric, even though he knew full well Bucky made his living that way.

As he drew closer to the last door, Loki took in a deep breath. The door was painted a dull gray but had been drawn on with an array of markers. Dragons, busty pin-ups, flowers, skulls, and other ornate designs covered much of the available surface; aside from a sign in the middle of the door that read _employees only_.

Once he was within reach, he knocked on the door; a sturdy sound that split through the monotony of tattoo machines at work and the wail of an electric guitar over the stereo system. Within seconds a muffled voice called out to him; the words were indiscernible, but Loki suspected he was being invited in as was customary when someone knocked on a closed door, unless things were utterly uncivilized in Brooklyn as he originally believed them to be.

Turning the doorknob, Loki pushed open the door, and peered into the compact office. A banged up metal desk was situated against the farthest wall, surprisingly orderly with an in and out tray on the corner and several manila folders stacked on the other end. There was also a stout filing cabinet beside a taller one closest to the door, and several large paintings were hung up on the walls; most of which were of the stereotypical pin-up girls from the forties.

Bucky was seated at the desk; he was a sight for sore eyes in a thin white tee-shirt, his customary silver chain around his neck, and a pair of form fitting black jeans. He didn't look away from the folder he was scheming, although for a split-second it looked like his lips quirked; and Loki could only fantasize it was because he knew it was him.

"Hello, James." Loki said as calmly as he could, especially when Bucky's head snapped up almost on the verge of being violent.

The tranquility of the moment quickly crumbled away. Bucky scowled at him, as if his mere presence was an insult; which he supposed wouldn't be that far from the truth. Yet that wasn't a deterrent for Loki either; his instincts were much too strong to cause him to cower away now.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"Miss Carter asked if I would bring these to you." He replied coolly, while closing the door so they'd have some privacy.

"I bet Sharon called you and you came all the way from Manhattan to hand me some papers, you know when she could have done it herself."

"I was in the neighborhood."

"Didn't I already tell you not to come back here again?"

"Oh, yes; you said something about killing me. Idle threats, James,"

"What do you want?" Bucky ground out, as he snatched the papers out of Loki's hand. "I already told you that this isn't going to happen. Do you want me to print out a flyer? Maybe I should send out a memo?"

Loki tried to smile, even though he was grappling with a slew of powerful emotions; one of the more prevalent ones being anger. Not many people had the gall to speak so disrespectfully to him, and the few instances that it had happened; the person in question ended up in a jail cell or paying restitutions by the hundreds of thousands (sometimes millions) to his clients.

"You aren't stupid, James. You know why I'm here, and you know why I'll be here again and again. I cannot stay away from you; every one of my instincts yearns to be close to you, and I won't go against them even if you cannot feel it."

"This is harassment." Bucky pointed at him. "There's gotta be a law against this."

"I'm glad you asked because I happen to be a lawyer, so my passion is the law. And no, James there isn't any laws against an alpha being close to his omega. There was never a need for such an unnecessary law."

"Big-time Manhattan lawyer; this couldn't be any better, could it?"

"With all due respect, my love; you aren't exactly what I envisioned when I thought of my mate. But I also realize you are the perfect fit for me; I cannot even look at anyone else but you now." He admitted without any regret.

The truth of the matter was that Loki would have preferred someone more like him. Bucky was an anomaly to him; he was lowly bred, poorly educated, sometimes inarticulate too. If they weren't physiologically compatible, the probability that Loki would have sneered and walked past Bucky was fairly high. And there wasn't any point on lying to himself about it either.

For all intents and purposes, he and Bucky were complete opposites. Everything about them clashed awfully with the other; but none of that mattered to Loki. Bucky was where the universe began and ended for him. Bucky meant the world to him; he _was_ the world to him.

"This is a lot of bullshit; deep down you know it, pal." Bucky glowered at him; he looked like a petulant child. "Just because your body's telling you one thing, doesn't mean it's right."

"Tell me this, James; would you say that to Steve?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with Steve!"

"Indirectly it does; or at least that statement you've made does. Steve's an alpha like me and he is physiologically wired to recognize his mate. His body is built with that information, and he can tell without any sort of doubt in his mind who is his mate when he finds them." He explained with a tight-lipped smile. "Steve is mated; he told me as much. So would you tell him he should overlook his every instinct because it could possibly be wrong?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with Steve." Bucky repeated hotly.

"Well, you've given me your answer anyway. No, you would not tell Steve any such thing. But you'll say that to me because you're terrified. And my love, you haven't any need to be terrified; this is a good thing. This is a fantastic thing! We found one another finally!"

"I wasn't looking for you!"

"Well, I searched high and low for you! I traveled Europe and Asia for weeks on end for you!"

"Traveling the world, huh? Never thought about crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, did you?" Bucky asked snidely. "I've been here all this time, buddy. Never been to Europe or Asia; only been to Afghanistan for a couple of years, but otherwise I've never left this place."

"Does it matter, James? I've found you now and we can begin our life together!"

"You aren't listening!" Bucky suddenly leapt to his feet. "I don't want this! I don't want you! I never wanted to find you; not now and definitely not ever!"

The weight of those words struck Loki directly in the chest. Of course, he knew that Bucky hadn't shown any desire towards him; that much was apparent on their first meeting. But the reality of the situation hadn't hit home until that moment. And it hurt; it hurt to know that Bucky never wanted to find him.

While his determination refused to waver, it was impossible, his happiness did. The happiness of seeing his mate seemed so far away now. Because he knew that he was never wanted; that Bucky never yearned and ached for him as he did for him, which felt utterly unfair.

"You might not have had any intention of finding me, but I found you James. I found you and I don't regret it; whether you're on heat suppressant or not. Whether you don't currently feel the same way about me, well that doesn't matter to me; I'm happy to have found you, and I'll never regret it. I love you; I'll always love you." Loki reached for the doorknob and turned it. "I'll be back for you; I can't stay away from you, and I refuse to."

Without waiting for a reply, Loki slipped through the door and shut it behind him. He hadn't expected his impromptu visit to go over well; however, the honesty of Bucky's confession hurt worse than he suspected it would. And he supposed Steve had had a point about maintaining his distance until he got the go-ahead.

Downtrodden, he wound his way back through the hallway and into the front room. He ignored Sharon's question about how things had gone, before he stepped back out into the cool night air. Brooklyn looked so much bleaker now, and Loki hated it even more than he had beforehand.


	8. Chapter Seven :: Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a Bucky chapter!

* * *

 

**Chapter Seven :: Decision**

 

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James Buchanan Barnes was born at Brookdale Hospital thirty years ago; he'd been put up for adoption before he could even blink, and spent seventeen years of his life bouncing from boys' homes to foster homes until he joined the military. He'd spent close to six years of his life serving his country, had two tours in Afghanistan to show for it, and almost lost his arm due to a roadside bomb; which had gotten him honorably discharged.

He'd gone through a lengthy amount of time in physical therapy, in order to use his arm properly again; and that eventually led him to an apprenticeship with a local tattoo artist by the name of Timothy "Dum Dum" Dugan, who specialized in old school tattooing and was responsible for the impressive artwork that covered the majority of his left arm.

Within years of his apprenticeship, Bucky had garnered enough wages to try and open his own shop. It floundered for a solid two years, nearly bankrupting him and left him to hop between people's couches after he lost his apartment. But things ended up picking up traction in the end, and money began to roll in. Initially, it had been only enough to keep him above the water; although it ended up being fairly lucrative later on.

Four other tattoo artists worked under him now, and they were happy with their salaries. Bucky had his own apartment, rodent free, and while it was nowhere near a penthouse; it was his and was enough room for a bed, a couch, and an easel for when he felt like painting. Steve had taught him the more traditional of art forms, which passed the time when he wasn't actively working.

It hadn't been an easy thirty years; in fact, it had been a downright nightmare a couple times over. Trying to survive a childhood filled with fist fights, constant moves from one place to the next had taken its toll on him. So really it wasn't any surprise that he hadn't any withstanding interest on trying to find "true love".

Alpha/omega dynamics hadn't meant a thing to Bucky. He'd been heavily medicated from an early age, and overcompensated by being an ornery, disagreeable punk. He fought like any alpha would; shot off his mouth when he should have kept it shut, and defended Steve whenever he did the same. But the only difference between them that despite Steve's previously small stature, he'd been an alpha when Bucky hadn't.

No one had been the wiser, though. Everyone had just assumed he'd been an alpha; there weren't any signs that pointed against the contrary, aside from his lack of a smell. And well, no one brought that up when they were getting their teeth kicked in.

It hadn't really been an issue for him; it really didn't matter that the media prattled on incessantly about mating and scientists wouldn't shut their traps about every study they conducted under the sun. For twenty-six years, Bucky had Steve by his side; two unmated friends that didn't need anyone but each other. They'd been through the toughest of times together, and somehow always ended up side by side and stronger than ever in the long run.

Something about him and Steve just made all the sense in the world. They had been one another's only family and there was something sacred about it. Which would also explain why Bucky had wished that Steve would inevitably be his alpha; seeing as they couldn't be any closer and Steve wasn't a stereotypical, overbearing alpha that the world constantly depicted.

Steve had the characteristics that Bucky thought would meld well with his own personality. He knew Steve wouldn't boss him around, constantly demand absolute submissiveness from him; they'd be equals and their statuses wouldn't matter either way. It wouldn't matter who was an alpha or who was an omega; they'd just be partners.

Unfortunately, that hadn't been meant to be. Steve had found Peggy Carter in the JFK airport, when he'd been catching a flight out to Boston for work, and when she'd arrived to spend some downtime in the city. When that had happened, Bucky had figured he didn't need anyone to spend his life with. While Steve had always been there in some capacity in his life, it had quickly become about Steve and Peggy and less about Steve and Bucky.

It hadn't occurred to Bucky to tell Steve about his impossible hope. He hadn't even bothered to admit to his omega status, although it wouldn't have changed things anyway. Peggy Carter was there to stay and nothing could change that.

"I heard he went to see you. Let me guess, it didn't end well." Steve snapped Bucky out of his reverie; all sunshine and coy smiles that once fueled his previous affection for him. But that had gone away long ago.

"News carries fast."

"People have a tendency to talk."

"You mean Sharon." Bucky furrowed his brow, as he skimmed the black and white photobook he'd picked up earlier in the day. It was another World War II book; he didn't even know how many he had anymore. He lost count after seventy-one.

He hadn't expected any less of Sharon to run to Steve about the situation. She was, after all, his niece-in-law; which meant she was only too happy to report Bucky's comings and goings to his best friend, whenever she deemed it in everyone's best interest. And while it annoyed him to no end, Bucky kept Sharon on as a part-time secretary (although the titled didn't seem fitting) for his shop because she needed the money and she was efficient.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Does it look like I want to talk about it, Steve?"

"Well, you haven't wanted to talk about it since everything happened."

"Maybe, that's because I don't want to talk about it. Maybe I don't want to even think about it. But for whatever reason you keep pushing it." Bucky lifted his eyes and shot Steve an annoyed look. "Maybe this doesn't have anything to do with you, and you can drop it."

Hurt crossed over Steve's face, before it was masked again by a relentless determination that Bucky had witnessed for a greater portion of his life. He always admired that about Steve, except when it was pointed in his direction. Because he knew he'd be dogged within an inch of his life, if he didn't give Steve what he wanted.

But the topic in question wasn't one he was comfortable with. After years of hiding his nature, Bucky didn't see any reason to have a lengthy conversation about it now; especially since it wouldn't gain either of them anything. Well, aside from a lot of humiliation on Bucky's part.

"We're best friends; we've been best friends since we learned how to walk. Why wouldn't you tell me that you were an omega? It's nothing to be ashamed of, Buck. It wouldn't have changed anything between us; you're still the toughest guy I know."

"If it doesn't matter then why would I tell you? Were you going to sweep me off my feet? Were we going to share a shithole apartment together, until Peggy came around?" He scoffed, despite the clench in his gut. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to. I wouldn't have told you either, if this jerk-off hadn't shown up and ruined everything."

"So you're just going to shut me out? God, Bucky I hate when you do this. It's like you're punishing me for trying to help you."

"Did I ask for your help? No, really; did I ask for your help, Steve?"

"No, but-"

"Right, I didn't; there aren't any buts about it. You decided to bring this guy to me; you're the one standing here asking questions and trying to figure out a solution. But maybe I don't want your help; maybe I'm happy without anyone's help. Maybe I don't want a mate."

"Why do you have be like this?" Steve said exasperatedly, as he plopped down onto the ratty old couch beside him. "Why can't you let me help you?"

Bucky flipped the page of his book, in hopes that some sort of distraction would even out his mounting annoyance. Steve didn't know when to quit; he had a lot of characteristics of a housefly with how he buzzed around your head, and never landing in one spot so you could smack him with a rolled up newspaper.

"Bucky, please,"

"Back off, pal."

"Talk to me; make me understand what's going on in your head."

"You're asking for trouble."

"You have an opportunity to be happy, and you're just wasting it! You're wasting it over something stupid, and I don't want you to lose your chance to be happy!"

"Steve,"

"You're being unreasonable here. I know he's some big-time lawyer in Manhattan; the antithesis of everything you like, but that's not any reason to be difficult."

"You think I'm being difficult?"

"You're being a jerk!"

"Fuck off, Rogers!" Bucky snapped, as his patience finally caved. "You think it's fucking easy being an omega in a world full of alphas? Do you think the toughest kid around gets to be an omega without being ridiculed and fucked with? The sisters thought all those bozos were going to rape me; that's why I was put on heat suppressants! If they couldn't smell me, they couldn't fuck me! Is that what you wanted to know so badly?"

The words echoed off the exposed brick of Bucky's studio apartment; loud and eerily unforgiving, and there wasn't any way he could take those words back. The sisters hadn't explained their motivation for doping him up on heat suppressants, but anyone could draw to the same conclusion if they wanted to.

Being the only omega in a house full of alphas, who were rapidly hitting puberty; was like being a wounded antelope in front of a pack of hungry lions. Not to mention, he'd been a cocky little shit from the day he was born, and fought with half the boys (some years older than him) because of Steve or because he had something to prove. So they would have pounced on the opportunity to take advantage of him out of instinct or out of revenge or maybe even both.

"Bucky," Steve said in that heartbreaking way of his; as if someone had just kicked a puppy in front of him.

"Just drop it; if you give a shit about me, then you'll drop it." Bucky blindly flipped another page of his book; although he couldn't focus on the content. His heart was in his throat and his world seemed to narrow into one little pinprick of shame.

He'd lived thirty years without having to verbalize any portion of his nature. But now that was the only thing anyone wanted to talk about. Steve had been on his back for days, trying to coax him into agreeability. Then his back-up squad of Peggy and Sharon weren't helping matters either.

Everyone assumed they knew what was best for him, yet no one bothered to ask him what he wanted. To be honest, at this point Bucky was too confused to make a decision. Something gnawed at the back of his mind whenever he thought about his supposed mate. And he hadn't had any time to analyze it; not when everyone had already determined what his best course of action should be.

He needed time to think without intervention from anybody. That included Steve, the Carter women, and more specifically Loki; whose very name seemed to scorch the surface of his mind and the roof of his mouth.

No matter what decision he drew to, Bucky intended on doing it for himself; as he'd done everything else. Biology or not, he'd make his own decision one way or another.


	9. Chapter Eight :: Restlessness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update!

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**Chapter Eight :: Restlessness**

 

* * *

 

It was impossible to combat the restlessness. Every waking moment was worse than the last. Loki squirmed unhappily in his seat; he couldn't focus for the life of him, even though this meeting was an important one. He had tried to pay attention, and found that he was physically incapable of doing so.

With every passing moment, he became more and more agitated. His thoughts were a maelstrom of so many things; none of which truly made any sense. But the one constant was Bucky; the only thing that mattered was Bucky.

Six days had passed; six brutal days had gone by since he had last seen his mate. It felt so much longer, as if years had dragged on without any satisfaction. His body was reacting poorly to it, and it wouldn't get any better unless he found himself in Bucky's presence again. And god only knew if that would be a possibility again.

Generally, mates couldn't maintain that much distance for very long. Both parties were compelled to be in close proximity; to touch in any way that they could just to maintain their sanity. Unfortunately in Loki's case, Bucky didn't have any compulsion to be near him. He had been stripped completely of his compulsions, and didn't have any interest in reversing the damage.

The mere thought was like fingernails on a chalkboard to Loki. He couldn't imagine a world without his biological instincts; more importantly still, he couldn't believe that Bucky would not want to be with his determined mate, especially when the alternative was so much more depressing in comparison. But he also had to recognize the fact that he was angry too.

After years of loneliness and dejection, Loki had finally found his one and only. He had found the person he was physiologically made for, and he was being openly rejected by him every step of the way. Bucky refused to even accept that they were paired with one another. The entire ritual was lost on him, and he didn't care if Loki suffered because of it.

It was callous and hateful. The things Bucky was doing to him both mentally and physically was inhumane; which only stoked resentment inside of Loki further. Yet that was nothing compared to the yearning he felt in the pit of his stomach every second of the day. Because he loved Bucky irreversibly and not even his continuous rejections could dampen it.

God only knew how much Loki would have preferred not to be mated with someone like Bucky. If he could change his biology, he would do it in a split-second. He would wipe himself clean, and find someone who complimented him better than Bucky and who'd want to be with him. There was nothing more that he would have wanted, but it wasn't a possibility. It would never be one.

"Loki," someone called out to him, snapping back into the present.

"Yes," he cleared his throat and smiled unconvincingly at his contemporaries.

The board room had been filled over an hour ago with the firm's best attorneys. Everyone was dressed in their best apparel; brand name suits and ties. His female coworkers weren't any exception either. But the only difference between him and them, which he soon found out by the inquisitive looks on everyone's faces, was that there was black ink covering both his hands like a slowly spreading disease.

Sometime in the midst of his restlessness, he had snapped his fountain pen in two. He had a piece in each hand, although he really couldn't tell the extent of the damage due to the ink covering the plastic too.

"Oh," he said with an abrupt bark of laughter. "Where has my mind gone?"

"I'd like a word with you in the hallway, if I may." Heimdall, the head of the firm, motioned towards the door. "Ladies and gentlemen please excuse us."

Exasperated and a little worried, Loki pushed his chair away from the table and stood. He continued to hold his broken pen in his hands, and hoped that the ink didn't run onto his suit or worse yet onto the beige carpet underneath his feet. But much of the ink seemed to have already started to dry and stained his hands black.

The room was silent as he exited ahead of Heimdall; whom held the door open for him, and closed it once they were both in the desolate hallway. Most of the time it was bustling with activity and it would probably become busy once the day truly got underway. But for now, they had it all to themselves.

"You've been visibly distracted of late." Heimdall began with a frown, as he turned to stare at him. "I know you've reported into human resources that you've found your mate a few weeks ago, and that sometimes causes shortsightedness. Not only are you distracted though, you are clearly agitated and sometimes irate; especially over this past week. That's not like you at all, Loki."

"I know; I haven't a good excuse for it."

"Have you been in contact with your mate recently?"

"No," Loki clenched his sticky fists around the broken pen, and heard an audible crunch.

It was humiliating to admit that aloud. He was a well-respected member of the firm with a high success rate on cases won. Yet his personal life was an utter mess; to the point where he couldn't even convince his omega to be with him. His omega, a lowly tattoo artist from Brooklyn; one that was uncivilized and brass and annoying, and one that he loved without any regret at all.

No doubt when the extent of his personal problems became a known fact, his colleagues would lose their respect for him. His apparent power of persuasion wasn't very good, if he couldn't convince Bucky that they should be together. And maybe everyone would think he really wasn't as good of a lawyer as they believed him to be; which would ruin his reputation.

"Mating isn't always easy," Heimdall said slowly, as if he could sense the flow of his thoughts. "And I think you should focus your attention fully on that for the time being. You've accumulated quite a bit of leave. It's high time that you take it."

"It's only a minor issue, I assure you."

"Even so, I highly suggest you peruse the time you've accumulated. I can only imagine you have a solid year or two worth of time saved up, Loki. And you aren't doing the firm any good if you're distracted by outside sources."

"Yes, I know." Loki loosened his grip on the crumbled remnants of his pen, and tried to quiet his indignation.

It was obvious that he was distracted. His mind was stuck in one gear, and there was very little he could do about it. The only remedy for it was to be close to Bucky. But he had vowed to himself that he wouldn't crop up unannounced anymore; not without Bucky's prompting anyway. And unfortunately, the likelihood of that happening was astronomically low.

"You aren't doing yourself any favors by being away from mate; particularly at such a crucial point in the bonding process. So I recommend you take the time that you need, and your job will be here when you're ready to take it on again." Heimdall reached over and clamped his hand onto his shoulder. "There's no room for arguments either. So go home; be with your mate."

Smiling tersely, Loki nodded and watched with mounting disquiet as Heimdall slipped back into the board room. While he knew he was far too distracted by Bucky to do the firm any good, he also wasn't thrilled by the prospect of staying home either. Because he couldn't go to Brooklyn; he couldn't go anywhere that Bucky was without a fight ensuing.

So the restlessness would stay embedded in his bones; in every crevice of his body. The only difference being was that he'd feel it in his apartment rather than at work; which, in the very least, wouldn't be detrimental to anyone but himself.

Slowly, he walked away from the board room and headed towards the closest lavatory several doors ahead. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, and was glad to find that no one else was there at the moment. So he wouldn't have to ask why he'd broken a sturdy fountain pen in annoyance, and why he wasn't in the meeting taking place down the hall.

Once he was in sight of the trash can, Loki tossed away his broken pen; before he turned on the closest faucet and stuck his hands underneath the spray. Excess ink washed off his skin and pooled at the bottom of the sink, until his hands looked almost normal again.

For several minutes, he worked the ink off his skin and from underneath his nails; until he was certain that was the best he could do with only soap and water. The small amount that remained underneath his fingernails would fade within the coming days, and since he hadn't any plans or court appearances to show for; he wasn't going to worry about it any, especially when he had bigger issues on his mind to consider.

No matter what he did, Bucky still found his way to the forefront of his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling of incompleteness. Before he had found Bucky, there was an uneasy feeling inside of him. Nothing was truly missing, really; it was more of a devoid sensation. But now, it felt like someone had scooped out his heart and left his chest gaping open.

Reaching into his trouser pocket, Loki slipped out his mobile phone. He unlocked the screen and clicked onto his messages. His inbox was filled with acquaintances who wanted to meet for dinner within the coming weeks and many more that needed legal advice.

He scrolled dismissively through the clutter, only to stop at an unread message with Steve's named attached to it. His heart leapt to his throat, as he jabbed his thumb against the text, and brought it up onto the screen.

The message was brief, but it was enough to renew Loki's hope. Steve wanted him to call him, so they could make plans to meet up. And that seemed to suggest, to him anyway, that there might be hope yet when it came to seeing Bucky again; and that knowledge brightened his mood quite a bit from only moments beforehand.

Throwing subtlety aside, Loki quickly dialed Steve, and pressed his phone to his ear. He listened anticipatorily to the rings and counted each religiously, until finally the other end was picked up by a breathless Steve.

"Hello," Steve said on the end of a long winded pant.

"Steve, this is Loki. I just received your message; I'm sorry I didn't respond earlier."

"Oh, it's no problem; you are a busy man. I didn't expect an answer right away."

"So you had mentioned something about meeting up." Loki replied and tried to keep his excitement at bay. It didn't work out very well, though.

His only key to Bucky was through Steve. So he knew that any interaction with Steve was one step closer to his mate. And he would never apologize for feeling any sort of happiness when it came to Bucky.

"Yeah, I was thinking we could meet and talk about Bucky." Steve explained, while he took in a deep breath. "Sorry, you caught me at the tail end of my morning run. But like I was saying, we should meet up and talk about Bucky. Maybe if you knew more about him then this whole bonding thing would happen more smoothly than it has been."

"So, in other words, he would not be joining us?"

"No, not this time around."

"I see." Loki's optimism crumbled in on itself like a dying star, and he knew he should have anticipated the disappointment.

"Listen, that doesn't mean that we can't go see him. So long as you're respectful of his boundaries; I don't think it would be a problem."

"Do you mean it? This isn't a cruel trick?"

"God, no," Steve almost yelled it. "I know Bucky's being difficult, and I know it's affecting you negatively. That's why I want to meet up and discuss Bucky's history. That way you'll know how to approach him from now on. I want to help you as much as I want to help Bucky. God's honest truth,"

"When would you like to meet? I can meet you anytime, anywhere."

"This afternoon would be great; I'll send you the place, whenever I find something good."

"I imagine this'll be in Brooklyn then."

"If you want to understand Bucky, you'll have to start to understand Brooklyn too." Steve sounded like he was smiling. "Give me an hour and I'll get you the details; I want to meet around one, though. So you might want to leave now."

"I'm Brooklyn bound." Loki couldn't control the stupid grin that crossed his face.

Disconnecting the call, he gave himself a once over in the mirror. He looked like a highly successful professional, and even if Bucky might not be a fan of it; he would be soon. Because he intended on wooing his omega in every way possible; one way or another, he'd have Bucky with him. Even if it meant he was subjected to Brooklyn a hundred times over.


	10. Chapter Nine :: The Strategy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the continued support; I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far!

* * *

 

**Chapter Nine :: The Strategy**

 

* * *

 

The pizzeria was small but busy. People shouted their orders across the counter, and the employees conveyed them to their coworkers in the kitchen. It was the epitome of what was New York; every movie that tried to accurately paint the city either had a scene in a pizzeria or a deli. And Loki figured they captured the essence of the city in that regard.

Uncomfortably, he shifted his gaze away from the back of the shop, and watched his lunch-mate devour a greasy slice of pizza. Steve looked to be in heaven; his eyes were closed and he moaned with every bite, as if it were a world class cuisine. He had offered to buy Loki a slice, but the idea made his stomach churn unpleasantly so he had to pass.

"You're missing out." Steve exclaimed in between bites. "Best pizza in the city."

"I think I'll live without the experience." Loki replied. "Besides, I am not here for pizza. I'm here because of James."

"I haven't forgotten; trust me on that."

"Yes, well I thought it noteworthy to mention it again, seeing as you seem to be preoccupied by your food. And I feel like I might very well crawl out of my own skin at any moment now."

"Yeah, sorry," Steve had the good grace to look embarrassed; he even placed his half-eaten slice onto the greasy paper plate that it had been served on. So at least Loki had his undivided attention now.

The annoyance that had settled over Loki began to lift a fraction. It really wasn't Steve he was annoyed with or even the noise of the pizzeria, exactly; it was his biological desires, which had been gnawing away at him for days. But now it seemed far more prominent, particularly because he could smell a very subtle scent of his mate on Steve.

Bucky didn't really have a smell to him due to the heat suppressants. However, even the best medication on the market couldn't completely eliminate a person's pheromones. That being said, Steve's own scent overpowered Bucky's easily enough; just not to the point where Loki could remain remotely civilized in his own head.

He wanted to kill Steve.

"Bucky's been pretty moody of late." Steve explained, while wiping his hands on a stray napkin beside his plate. "I don't know if it's physiological, though. All I know is that he's upset and maybe a little scared too. I really don't think he ever thought he had a mate, as crazy as that sounds."

"Well, he was intentionally stripped of all his faculties; I'm not surprised."

"They did it for his own good."

"Do you think so? Do you really believe that he's better off without his natural born instincts?"

"Actually, I do." Steve frowned deeply. "He told me why he was put on the heat suppressants at such an early age, and god it all makes sense now."

To Loki there wasn't any viable reason to put a child on heat suppressants. It stunted their natural growth and made them into misplaced individuals in society. Bucky, while clearly thriving in his own way, failed in the most basic of terms. How was that humane at all? And how could his best friend see justification in that?

"I'm suspending my disbelief."

"We grew up in group and foster homes; sometimes there were dozens of us at a time. And Bucky was a firecracker; he was a fighter and a troublemaker. He protected my ass more times than I can count. That's why I always figured he was an alpha, even though he didn't have a smell to him. It seemed like the only explanation for his behavior."

"Where is this going exactly?"

"Okay, cutting out the details. Bucky was the only omega in a group of emerging alphas; alphas he managed to piss off left and right. He was put on heat suppressants because some of the older boys were starting to sniff around him. Do you know what I mean?"

"Unfortunately so," Loki uttered with a dawning disgust.

The state of group and foster homes never mattered to Loki before. No one really made much of an issue of children coming of age in those types of settings. In fact, there was very little research (that he knew of anyway) on the subject. Then again, there was probably extensive work on the matter; due to society's feverous interest in understanding alpha/omega dynamics. But none of it was exactly widespread and frequently discussed at length on television programs.

Surely, there should have been a better alternative than what had happened to Bucky, though. If anything, the decision to drug him was the easy way out. While the people responsible had potentially saved him from a physical assault; they also had severely handicapped him in more ways than they could even fathom.

"I honestly don't know if the damage can be reversed. Even if he went off his heat suppressants, could he even go into a full-blown heat?" Steve pondered.

"The only way to find out is if he stops taking the heat suppressants altogether."

"Would that even be safe? Shouldn't he consult a doctor, before he tries to quit the medication cold turkey?"

"Because he'll acquiesce to that," Loki curled his hands into fists and inhaled deeply. "I know he cannot possibly be getting that dosage legally Or if he has a prescription, he's taking three times the recommended amount; no less he would have to have an unethical doctor."

Any doctor that would prescribe a heat suppressant to someone of Bucky's physiological condition would have gotten their medical license revoked. So it seemed highly doubtful that Bucky's prescription was legal. He probably bought the heat suppressants from some two-bit drug dealer in his neighborhood. And that knowledge only made Loki's annoyance flare up once more.

"We have to approach the situation delicately." Steve pushed his paper plate aside, and rested his elbows on the table. "Bucky's been pretty tense and defensive about the whole situation. He's usually levelheaded, but I think he's really scared and probably ashamed of his omega status. So running at him at full force will only decrease your chances of success with him."

"I suspected as much."

"When we go to see him, don't overstep your boundaries. Ask before you touch him or anything like that."

"Yes, I know." Loki replied, although he was feeling his irritability rise steadily until he was almost dizzy.

It was a compulsion to want to be within the same vicinity as his mate. Every fiber of his being told him that it was a necessity, especially so early on in their relationship. But really, they didn't have much of a relationship to speak of. Bucky wouldn't allow them to progress in any way whatsoever.

Despite knowing the reasoning behind Bucky's behavior, Loki couldn't deny the fact that was he frustrated. After so many years of loneliness, he had finally found his mate; and he had found an omega that was belligerent, spiteful, brass, and lacking any of the characteristics Loki had prayed for. He was equally displeased as Bucky was about the connection; the only difference was that his physiology was telling him otherwise.

"He's not a bad guy, you know." Steve linked his hands together and rested his chin on top of them. "I understand that he's probably not your type. He is rough around the edges and isn't making as much money as you'd like him to, I'm sure. But he has a good heart; he's loving and caring and really smart. Trust me, once you get past his defenses; you'll realize how lucky you are to have him."

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself. He won't even see me on a regular basis, in order to maintain my sanity. So any thoughts of a relationship are very far into the future; not like I'm happy to admit that, mind you."

"And that's why I'm here; I'm going to teach you how to deal with him. Bucky Barnes 101,"

"Well, I'm all ears."

"Firstly, you need to respect his need for space. Bucky's normally an affectionate person; he has a tendency to touch people a lot too. But in your case, you need to ask before you reach out and touch him. I imagine once he gets used to you, he'll touch you automatically and not have a problem with it."

"We've already been through this, Rogers."

"Yeah, well maybe you should hear it again. It's not like you've had any success doing what you've been doing." Steve said. "Let Bucky initiate physical contact; let him get used to you. Don't force yourself on him. And I really think he'll warm up to the idea of having a mate. Just don't be a stereotypical alpha,"

Another wave of annoyance overwhelmed Loki at that moment. How could he not act like an alpha around his mate? His body was built to care for his omega; he was meant to protect Bucky, to mate him (not literally) when he went into heat. And he couldn't easily control his urges; hell, he probably couldn't control them at all.

He'd gone thirty odd years without a mate, so why would he intervene with nature now? His alpha instincts needed to come out one way or another. He'd go absolutely batty otherwise. So he couldn't make that promise, especially since he couldn't keep it.

"You're an alpha, Rogers. Which would mean you are fully aware of the instincts that all alphas have; that irrational desire to love and protect your omega, and to deter any other alpha from attempting to do anything unsavory towards your mate. And you'd also know that that instinct becomes even more apparent while in their presence of your mate. So how can you even ask me to muffle my instincts? Especially if you are aware of the fact that it's practically impossible to do; it feels unnatural."

"Regardless of it feeling unnatural, you need to do it. Not for me, obviously, but for Bucky."

"And what will this accomplish then?" Loki unclenched his hands, before taking a few breaths in.

"Maybe he'll realize what an upstanding guy you are. And maybe he'll even agree to see a doctor who'll wean him off his heat suppressants. That way you two might have a real chance on bonding. Isn't that the goal here, after all?" Steve asked.

Loki couldn't contest that. He did want to bond with his mate; he'd wanted that from the beginning, even when Bucky hadn't lived up to the fantasy in his head. Because in all honesty it didn't matter what his mate's social and economic standing was. All that mattered was that Loki had finally found him, despite Bucky being in disrepair at the moment.

"So I need to reel in my instincts and allow him his space." Loki recited slowly.

"Yeah, at least initially anyway," Steve nodded. "That way you can earn his trust. And I'll tell you, once you have Bucky's trust; you probably won't lose it ever. So long as you're good to him; he'll be good to you."

"That's the only positive news I've heard all week. Now, if you don't mind; I'd like to see James. I'll go utterly mad if I don't see him soon."

"Let me finish my slice." Steve held up a hand, before he slid his plate back to its previous place in front of him. "Are you sure you don't want any? This is the best pizzeria in Brooklyn; like I said - the best pizza in the city. And it is Bucky's favorite."

"He might be my mate, but that doesn't mean he has a sophisticated palate."

"Get used to it, pal. You're not at the Plaza anymore."

"Oh, I'm fully aware of that." Loki grimaced as Steve took a huge bite of his slice, and silently prayed that he would get through this experience alive.


	11. Chapter Ten :: Hope Yet Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been an eternity since I updated this!

* * *

 

**Chapter Ten :: Hope Yet Still**

 

* * *

 

 

The apartment was compact and shabby. It reminded Loki of every aspiring artist's home that he had had the misfortune of meeting by chance. But rarely could you find prime real estate in the city if your intentions had anything to do with the fine arts. Hell, many bankers and bit-time lawyers lived in fishbowls no better than this.

Uncomfortably, he eyed every nook and cranny of the big room. There was an old sofa, a rickety coffee table, two large bookcases, and a wardrobe painted fire engine red, a mattress, and an easel with a stool in front of it. It was the bare essentials; maybe the barest he had ever seen. Even the kitchenette looked miserable beyond a new coffee maker and toaster.

"Didn't expect the company," Bucky announced warily, but at least he didn't sound angry.

"I thought you might need it." Steve provided with a cheery smile.

"Think again," Bucky walked away from the easel, and revealed quite a wide painting of the Brooklyn skyline with two people (with their backs facing the viewer) sitting in the foreground.

Paint spattered Bucky's cheeks, hands, and arms where he'd been working on the aforementioned canvas. Loki desperately wanted to touch him and clean away the oil paint from his skin. Unfortunately, he knew better than to follow that train of thought. He knew that would only ruin his chances at gaining his mate's trust.

This was a very delicate situation; one in which he needed to reel in his instincts. Steve had told him to be as non-threatening as humanly possible, and to set aside his alpha-like attributes for the time being. Which proved to be increasingly harder now that Bucky was within his sights, no less within his physical reach; but he forced himself to maintain his distance all the same.

He furled his hands into fists, as he watched Bucky bend over to retrieve a dirty rag and wipe his hands across it. Every action that Bucky completed was like a punch to the stomach to him. He felt like he was being teased by each one, and the flare of desire started to burn his insides into cinders.

"Don't be upset with me, Buck." Steve started quickly. "I know we've had an argument about this situation, but could you please hear me out. Will you listen to what Loki has to say too?"

"Let me guess, this will be a speech on how my decision not to acknowledge some bogus physical connection is unnatural and stupid, and that I'm just being intentionally hardheaded. Meanwhile, you'll neglect why I've made this decision because it'll be easier on your consciences."

"What are you afraid of?"

"You want me to change my entire life without any warning! You want me to just accept this situation, and I'm supposed to be happy about it!"

"Bucky, every couple's lives have changed when they met. Look at Peggy; she gave up her career to move here. She changed her whole life in order to be with me! It's not uncommon; everyone makes sacrifices for their mate!"

"You don't get it, do you? Both of you made that choice; everyone is treating me like I'm some kind of object." Bucky scoffed, before his eyes fell on Loki. "You think you can ransack my life and expect me to be happy about it. Just because you have some physical compulsion to,"

Loki bit his tongue, so he wouldn't blurt out anything that would only deepen the rift between him Bucky. Quite frankly, he would like nothing more than to yell himself hoarse, ticking off the ways in which Bucky made him suffer. But in the end, what would that accomplish?

Despite his anger about Bucky's pigheadedness, he needed to remind himself that it wasn't entirely his fault. Bucky couldn't feel their connection; he couldn't understand the desperation that he felt when he was away from him or even feet out of reach. He had to understand and accept this and not allow his frustrations to get the best of him.

"No, initially I didn't understand what you felt or lack thereof. I allowed my own compulsions and emotions to rule me; my impulses had gone haywire once I knew you were out there, and maybe I didn't react very civilized." Loki chose his words carefully. "And for that I'm sorry."

As ways of apologies went, Loki felt his was heartfelt and sincere. He rarely apologized to anyone because he never felt sorry for his actions. He realized early on that being apologetic about advancing his career or using dirty tactics to get the upper-hand was downright pointless. Because the world was a ruthless place and corporate America was especially so.

It still remained to be seen if he was even sorry about the way he reacted towards Bucky, though. He supposed he was apologetic about how he caused himself grief, instead of how it affected Bucky. But he wouldn't dare say as much, unless he wanted to ruin any opportunity to finally be with his omega.

Bucky shook his head, while he meticulously cleaned his hands. His efforts weren't very successful. If anything he only smeared the paint into an ugly brown color across his knuckles and the inside of his fingers.

"Please, Bucky. It's a conversation not a marriage proposal." Steve intervened, although Loki had yet to determine if it was welcomed or not; especially with his choice of words.

"Might as well get it over with; I figure you won't leave me alone until I hear you out." Bucky motioned to the ugly, old sofa. "Go ahead and sit,"

Loki saw Steve shoot him a hopeful smile, before he took one end of the sofa for himself. The other end was reserved for Loki, and it looked anything but appealing. He sat anyway, while somehow managing to curb his disgust at how the cushion sank underneath him and almost touched the floor.

Once they had resolved this unpleasant business, he hoped to take Bucky away from this shoddy studio apartment and relocate him to Manhattan, where he would lavish him with all kinds of luxuries. There wouldn't be any more fifteen year old sofas found on street curbs, and bargain brand bed linens to boot in his future.

"What now?" Bucky asked as he dropped onto the stool, before promptly tossing his dirty rag to the floor where it had previously been.

Steve looked at him, which clearly meant that he would handle much of the discussion. It was probably for the best, lest he shoot himself in the foot by saying something unreasonable. Or rather something unreasonable by Bucky's standards anyway.

"Bucky, there isn't any way to reverse what happened to you as a kid. Putting you on heat suppressants that young really damaged your body's chemistry, and you need to see a doctor about it. Loki aside, this has to do with your overall health."

"How is this having a negative effect on me, Steve? My life is pretty great, you know."

"But it could be even better! You have a mate, Bucky! That is one of life's biggest blessings, and you're squandering your chance for true happiness!" Steve declared passionately.

The message didn't seem to affect Bucky much, though. He looked even more annoyed than he previously did. It was like any positive attribute of having a mate completely flew over his head. Or he was determined to discredit the idea no matter how true it was. And Steve would know most of all about a happy bonding.

"Why are you being so unreasonable?"

"The damage has already been done! It's irreversible!"

"How would you know that?" Steve raised his voice. "You won't even see a legitimate doctor, Bucky! For all you know, there might be a way to regulate your body's chemical imbalance. But you'll never know if you don't go to one."

"Who has the money for that?!"

"I do." Loki piped in softly, but didn't elaborate any further. He knew his input was unwanted, if it was any indication by the rush of color in Bucky's cheeks.

Before Bucky could possibly lose all semblance of control, Steve leapt to his feet and grabbed Bucky by the nape of his neck. Steve whispered several things to Bucky, which loosened the tightness in his body; while simultaneously winding Loki up. He did not want Steve touching his mate.

It took considerable self-restraint not to allow his alpha instincts to rear their ugly head. Because all he truly wanted to do in that moment was to rip Steve's head from his body and throw it out the window. With his pent up frustration, it probably would have proven not so difficult to do either.

"If you value our friendship, Bucky, please at least seek professional help. I care about you and I don't want you to live an unfulfilled life out of stubbornness and hardheadedness."

"That's a dirty tactic and you know it, Steve."

"Don't act like dirty tactics are beneath you. I remember more than once how you threatened never to talk to me again if I didn't go to the doctor for my asthma or for the flu or a number of other things. Let's be honest here, you crafted the art of blackmail."

"So I go to the doctor and get examined, that's all you want?" Bucky looked deflated and less outraged which Loki supposed was a vast improvement than the alternative.

Bucky seeing a licensed professional would only be the first step to a healthy relationship between them. It was a major step and maybe, just maybe, Bucky would realize what a precious bond that they could have if he just sought professional help. Loki had to cling to some ray of hope since it was the only thing he had at that moment.

"What kind of doctor do I need?"

"One that specializes in omegas," Loki answered since he believed he deserved a say. "A good friend of mine spoke of a specialist named Dr. Bruce Banner. He's located in Midtown from what I heard."

"Of course, he would be."

"Buck," Steve warned sharply.

"I'll go, okay; I'll go! But I'm not paying for it, and he can't go with me. I'll go by myself."

"I'm more than happy to make an appointment for you, James. While the arrangement isn't exactly what I would have preferred, I understand and I'll respect your wishes." Loki cautiously stood and held out his hands in a non-threatening way. "I'll make the arrangements with the help of Steve. I know you don't want any unnecessary contact with me."

That statement seemed to ease any mounting tension there might have been in between them. Loki felt like he was stomping through a field covered in landmines. Any wrong move and it could end up with him being mortally injured or even dead.

Despite feeling like he was being inauthentic, he knew he had to maintain his distance and suppress his fiery personality for now. Once he gained Bucky's trust then things would change between them. But until that day came, he would have to follow Steve's instructions and keep his alpha-like behaviors to himself.

He only hoped that Bucky's appointment with Dr. Banner would shed light on the damage done to his system, and hopefully there would be a possibility to reverse it. Although, even if there was a chance to reverse it; he wasn't certain that Bucky would want to.

"Thank you, Bucky. Thank you for being reasonable for once." Steve pulled Bucky into a one-armed hug that caused Loki to bristle unhappily.

"I'm not being reasonable, you're blackmailing me."

"You're reasonable enough to be blackmailed then."

"Get out of my apartment." Bucky pushed Steve away, but without any obvious force.

Steve withdrew his arm and motioned to Loki, clearly stating that their meeting was now over. Loki couldn't say he was completely satisfied, though. While he did get the opportunity to be in the same vicinity as his mate, it wasn't enough to ebb away the irritability inside of him. He had to touch him in the very least.

Any touch would have made him happy. So long as he could actually feel Bucky's skin under his fingertips then he would feel some degree of relief. He shot Steve a look that said as much, and he knew as a fellow alpha that Steve understood what he was wordlessly conveying.

"Uh, Bucky,"

"Would you possibly consider," Loki cut in and somehow kept the anxiety out of his voice. "Would you consider, that is to say, may I touch you? Just your hand in the very least,"

His words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity. Bucky stared at him with guarded eyes and evident hostility, which chipped away at the most vulnerable part of Loki. He never suspected his very own partner would look at him with disdain. Everyone else had in one way or another and it never bothered him, but they weren't Bucky. They weren't his mate.

Dejected, he dropped his eyes and stared at the abused floorboards. He should have known better than to ask. Bucky had only agreed to see Dr. Banner to prove that he would never be the mate that Loki wanted and needed. This was just another way to crush him, but definitively so.

Just as he made a move to turn, a painted hand was shoved under his nose. The unattractive brown color had flicks of yellow and black and blue in it, and underneath it all was a pale skin tone that sent Loki's heart into overdrive.

He looked up and saw a tight expression on Bucky's features; even so, he was being presented with a rare opportunity that he might not get again. Gently, he took Bucky's hand between his own and felt a quiver of contentment rattle its way into his bone. And for the first time since he encountered Bucky, he felt the irrationality ebb away and leave him with some form of peace.

During those few moments, everything made perfect sense; the planets aligned and life was amazing. He felt happier than he ever had before, and it was because of Bucky. Bucky was all that he needed and ever would need.

Unfortunately, his happiness didn't last very long. Bucky took his hand back and walked backwards towards his easel. He mumbled a goodbye, which was their cue to leave. Steve took him by the arm and escorted him to the door, although he couldn't help but look back as Bucky sat down in front of his easel and reach for his paintbrush.

For a split-second, Loki swore he saw Bucky's hand (the one he had touched) quiver. And that was enough to tell him that things weren't as bleak as he assumed them to be.


	12. Chapter Eleven :: Damaged Goods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind words; I figured people had forgotten about this story.

* * *

 

  **Chapter Eleven :: Damaged Goods**

 

* * *

 

 

Peruvian flute music; they were playing Peruvian flute music in the minimally designed waiting room. Bucky didn't really grasp on the concept why he was here. Intellectually he knew, but why he ever agreed to this humiliating situation was beyond him. He had been friends with Steve for years; their friendship had probably already run its course, so why should he care about potentially losing it now?

If only things were that simple then he probably wouldn't be here. But he had the unfortunate weakness of sentimentality and he wanted to preserve his friendship with Steve, even if it meant he had to be in a Midtown doctor's office with Peruvian flute music, old issues of National Geographic and omega periodicals spread across a handmade coffee table, and a statue of a golden Buddha in the corner. He would do this for Steve.

Awkwardly, he approached the front desk and smelled the persuasively sweet stench of omega. The woman behind the desk smiled at him and announced his name, as if he was some sort of foreign dignitary that had been invited to the White House by the President himself.

He shouldn't be surprised. The office was empty, so he could possibly be the only patient for hours. She'd be dense not to know who he was, and he could only assume that that asshole Loki made such a stink that he'd be memorable to anyone.

"Mr. Barnes since you're a new patient, I'll just need you to fill out a bit of paperwork for me. It's very basic information, but if you have any questions please let me know and I'll try to help you to the best of my ability." The secretary reached for a clipboard with a fountain pen attached to it. "Please have a seat and Dr. Banner will be with you soon."

With a thank you, Bucky took the clipboard and settled onto the brown colored couch with bamboo arms. He never felt as out of his element as he did now. It was like he was transferred into an alternate reality; one that he tried so hard to avoid, too.

He could leave now, though. Nothing was tethering him to the couch, and the door was only a stone's throw away. He could make a run for it and never look back. Maybe he could leave Brooklyn, hell the country entirely. He could go off the grid and no one (especially Loki) would ever find him again.

It would be awfully lonely in the beginning, but it was a sacrifice he'd have to make for anonymity. There had to be someplace in the world where alpha/omega dynamics wasn't at the forefront of everybody's mind. And he knew that was the only place that he could be himself without the constant pressure of mating and heat cycles and bonding.

He wished that was only possible; he really wished he had the courage to pack up his life and leave. However, the thought of losing Steve was too painful for him to handle; even if it meant being poked and prodded and made into a mini lab experiment by specialist after specialist. He'd do it for Steve and only him.

Reluctantly, Bucky picked up the pen and jotted down his general information. The first half of the paperwork was easy enough to fill out; the second half wasn't that simple, though. Much of it asked about the frequency of his heat cycles and how powerful said heats were; none of which he had any experience in.

After scribbling non-applicable more times than he would have liked, he got up and returned the clipboard to the secretary; before returning to his seat and hoping that the appointment would be relatively painless. It probably wouldn't be the case, especially since Loki had been the one to choose Dr. Banner. So he could only assume that this would be a ploy to get him to agree to this bonding whether he liked it or not.

No matter what his supposed alpha wanted, Bucky did not feel the same way. God only knew how much easier it would be if he had the same fervent responses to Loki as he did for him. He wouldn't be here if that were the case; he would be as normal as could be, and everyone would finally stop looking at him like he was some kind of freak. He would be like everyone else.

Whether not anyone chose to believe it, it was difficult being the way he was. He couldn't relate to the vast majority of people around him. He didn't have much of a sex drive, didn't crave to be touched in most ways, and his only glimpse of love had been directed at someone would couldn't feel the same way about him.

Regardless, Bucky learned to adapt to his unique set of circumstances. He thrived in his own way; he left the foster care system, joined the army, and served his country successfully. He built his own business and was financially stable now. He was a success story, even if he was different.

But Loki's appearance in his life was threatening to undo everything he worked so hard for. His bullish, alpha behavior was something he'd witnessed from other people, and he knew how damaging that could be for an omega's independence. He'd seen many omegas end their careers prematurely because of their alpha, and basically spend their lives as submissive, brain-dead individuals. And that wasn't what Bucky wanted for himself; no way, no how.

Being born an omega had been a huge burden for him, and he had chosen to self-medicate just in case he started to show signs of an oncoming heat. In so many ways, he rather be damaged goods than going into a full-blown heat. The very thought horrified him to no end because he knew the implications of it.

Bucky had had seen graphic pornographic material about an omega's first heat with their mate. There was for a market for it, after all and well curiosity got the best of him. So he had seen a video about five years ago in which a pretty doe-eyed omega had been mounted by a brute of an alpha, and the whole display had made Bucky's stomach churn from the sheer violence of the act.

He didn't want to be the receiving end of that. He didn't want to be knotted and attached to another human being for the rest of his natural born life, especially when he hadn't any say on who that person would be. Because he would have never chosen someone like Loki, and he believed the feeling to be mutual in that respect.

"Mr. Barnes," a feminine voice called out to him, ripping him from his thoughts.

A side door had been opened to reveal another freshly sweet smelling omega, holding a clipboard in one hand. She was younger than the secretary and was wearing baby blue scrubs with smiling stars on them. It was enough to make Bucky want to run once more. But instead, he stood and walked towards the girl who escorted him into a beige colored hallway off the waiting room.

"My name's Gwen." The sweet smelling omega introduced herself. "I'll be taking your vitals; height, weight, blood pressure, you name it."

"Goody, sounds like a party." He replied dryly, as they started down the corridor and eventually stepped into an examination room further away from where they came from.

There was nothing particularly interesting about the décor of the examination room. It looked like every single one ever built in the history of modern time. Once inside, Gwen shut the door and motioned towards the scale in the corner. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it into a chair, before he stepped onto the plate, and watched as Gwen toyed with the scale at the top until she wrote down the number.

"One-seventy four," she said, before moving onto his height and blood pressure respectively. All of which seemed to be in order, which Bucky already knew well enough. He was healthy as a horse, beyond his impaired omega instincts.

When everything had been done, Gwen reassured him that Dr. Banner would be with him very soon. She closed the door on him and left him to his own devices. So he sat heavily into the chair beside the examination table, and stared at the several informative posters plastered to the walls. Most of which, unsurprisingly, had to do with omegas and their body chemistry.

Happy and white-toothed omegas were depicted alone on beaches or with their mates at sunset, as if every day was a delight and nothing bad ever happened now that they were bonded. Everyone seemed to believe that once you found your mate life only improved. Steve was no different in that opinion, which was unfortunate and incredibly delusional.

Bucky was fully aware of the mortality rate of omegas. He knew how alphas could become violent within the blink of an eye. All those ghastly statistics were burned on the back of his eyelids, and he wouldn't let himself become a victim. Even though, he suspected his resistance would lead to something awful in the end.

Before his thoughts spiraled into the macabre, the door to the examination room opened to reveal a slight but kind looking man with salt and pepper curls, wire-rimmed spectacles, who smelled oddly alpha although it wasn't overpowering and stomach churning. The man wore a lab coat with one pocket lined with pens, and he was carrying a manila file. He smiled almost shyly at Bucky, before shutting the door, and extending a hand to him.

"Mr. Barnes, I'm Dr. Banner."

"Please call me, James." Bucky stood and took the doctor's hand. He shook it, before he sat down again and watched Dr. Banner do the same, but he took a stool that had been pushed beneath the cabinetry on the other side of the room.

"It's a pleasure, James." Dr. Banner said, while spreading the file out onto the surface provided to him, and pulling out a pen which he clicked on. "So I've been reviewing your file a bit, and I noticed you hadn't filled out much of anything; more specifically when it comes to your heat cycle."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't fill it out because I didn't have any answers."

"Could you elaborate for me, please?"

"Well," Bucky took a deep breath. "I take heat suppressants, so I don't have a heat cycle."

Dr. Banner looked up at him, before he wrote something into his file. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but it could only be bad. Why else would he be here if there wasn't something wrong with him?

"Forgive me," Dr. Banner set down his pen and faced him completely. "But I couldn't help but notice that you don't have any odor. While heat suppressants do prevent a full-blown heat from happening, they don't eliminate an omega's scent. Do they minimize them? Yes, but certainly not to this degree,"

"I…" Bucky trailed off, struck by sudden anxiety. "Listen, I didn't want to even come here. I was forced to by some psychopath swearing up and down he's my alpha. And trust me; I rather jump off a cliff before letting this guy anywhere near me."

For several moments, his words hung in the air like a black cloud. Dr. Banner didn't react right away, and stared at him like he were some feral animal. Maybe he was; maybe he was less than human for not experiencing the things that most people did. And he had to remind himself that he was fine with that; someone else's opinion of him didn't matter. He didn't care what Dr. Banner thought of him.

Slowly, Dr. Banner wheeled his stool in front of him and reached for his hand. Only then did he realize that his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He didn't know why, though. There wasn't anything to be afraid of; if he wanted, he could live right now and never look back.

"He scares you." Dr. Banner stated softly. "That's not uncommon; alphas can be incredibly aggressive and domineering to the point where they do scare their partners, and they don't even realize it. Trust me, I speak from personal experience."

Bucky realized how true it was. Loki did scare him; he hadn't done anything that screamed danger, but he had an aura about him that spoke otherwise. He could and possibly would do something drastic in the future if he didn't comply with his whims. And there was no way he could hold up in a fight with a hormonal alpha. He could easily be killed by Loki.

"There isn't any shame in that." Dr. Banner continued. "I promise you, James, I will not allow him to hurt you. I know who your alpha is, maybe not on a personal basis but I know of him. And he would be gravely mistaken if he believes he can pressure you into anything you're not ready for."

"Is it possible…do you know if I could keep him away?"

"What do you mean? In a legal sense?"

"I heard you're a specialist on omegas, so I bet a smart guy like you has read a lot on 'em. So tell me, do you know if I could keep an alpha away even temporarily? Like could I file a restraining order or something?"

"There aren't any laws that I know of. Most mates have established strong bonds, even if an omega is frightened of their alpha. There's still a compulsion to be with one another all the same. It's biological."

"Yeah, well I don't have that compulsion. I've been pumped full of heat suppressants since I was a kid. I never had a smell; I never went into a heat cycle. I don't feel anything for the guy who is going around saying he's my alpha. And the only reason I'm here is because my best friend threatened to stop talking to me; I didn't do it for that crazy fuck."

"How long have you've been heat suppressants?" Dr. Banner looked concerned.

"I don't know, I think I was eight or nine, maybe seven when I was put on them."

"How old are you now?"

"I'm thirty." He replied and watched as Dr. Banner's expression changed from concerned to incredibly concerned.

The doctor released his hand, before he rolled back to his file, and examined it like it was an ancient scroll. Bucky should have known that that revelation would change the tide of things. He knew how unorthodox the practice of giving medication such as heat suppressants to prepubescent children was. He was the walking example on why not to do that.

"Do you by chance remember the dosage you were given as a child?"

"No, but I know I took at least two pills a day."

"What about now? What have you been prescribed?" Dr. Banner looked up at him.

The truth was he didn't have a legitimate prescription. There wasn't any way that a licensed professional would write him a prescription for heat suppressants with how severely damaged his body was by them. So when he no longer had access to them via the sisters, he had gone onto the street for them. It was surprisingly easy to find someone willing to sell him heat suppressants of all things.

Out of sheer paranoia, he had stockpiled several years' worth in his apartment. Underneath a loose floorboard, he had hidden the majority of the bottles and took them out whenever he needed them. But not only that, he carried at least two (mostly full) bottles on his person almost at all times. Today wasn't one of them, though. He wasn't stupid enough to carry them into a doctor's office.

"I take a generic brand."

"How much do you take a day?"

"I don't know; I usually stick with something like four-hundred milligrams."

"Four-hundred milligrams," Dr. Banner repeated. "Who is the doctor who prescribed you that high of a dosage?"

"You see, I mean I didn't necessarily get it from a doctor. But I figure if I tell you that, there's still a doctor-patient confidentiality thing here. So you won't sell me up the creak, right?"

"James, I'm not concerned about that so much as I am about the damage you've done to your body. Heat suppressants are used to lessen the intensity of a heat cycle, and they are used to more often than not suppress them altogether until an individual finds their mate. So in time a heat cycle's intensity usually subsides quite a bit on its own. But when you're given a prescription for the suppressants, any doctor would prescribe anywhere from seventy-five to a hundred milligrams. Four-hundred is astronomical and harmful to the body, and quite frankly I am not surprised that you don't feel an emotional connection with your mate."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't know definitively until we run a barrage of tests. But if you've been taking such a high dosage for over twenty years, there is a great probability that the damage is irreversible. You may never have the ability to connect to your mate on a biological or psychological level." Dr. Banner said almost sadly. "You've already been stunted by your consumption in your childhood, but it's only been worsened by self-medicating yourself. I can't imagine we could do anything to regulate your hormonal imbalance now."

Bucky had gotten what he wanted. He had gotten validation about his condition being potentially irreversible, but for some reason it didn't feel like much of a victory. For some unknown reason, he felt a dull ache in his chest, and his hand trembled but only the one Loki had touched four days ago. He really was damaged goods; at long last he knew it.


	13. Chapter Twelve :: Rome Wasn't Built in a Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the feedback. I don't know how long this story will be, but I'll be trying my best to keep everyone in-character and not rush the relationship between Loki and Bucky. :D

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 **Chapter Twelve :: Rome Wasn't Built in a Day**  

 

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The law was the law. Loki knew that better than anyone, yet that didn't dampen his anger any. He had assumed that Dr. Banner would be forthcoming with him when it involved his mate, but he was stonewalled instead. Because there was a little thing called doctor-patience privilege, and that hardly changed even if you were bonded. The law still respected an individual's right to privacy.

Frustrated by the unsuccessful telephone conversation he just had, Loki slouched in his armchair and attempted to think logically. Unfortunately, his sound mind had been compromised by his feral instincts that filled him with unwarranted aggression. He suspected if they didn't quiet on their own, he would have to find an alternative way to control them.

Out of the multitudes of prescription drugs on the market, he assumed there must be at least one that would help with his newfound ferocity. He hadn't really paid that close attention to the pharmaceutical market since he hadn't any reason to. He hadn't had a mate until three weeks beforehand, and he hadn't suspected it would up like this.

Things were supposed to be different. Despite his pessimistic nature, Loki had believed once he met his omega that things would fall neatly into place. He had thought they would both be struck by excitement when they found one another, and that they'd spend their time getting to know one another and being happy.

That's all he ever wanted, really. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be someone's and he wanted someone to be his. He didn't want a constant headache, where he was forced to suppress his emotions and try to be patient when every cell in his body protested it fiercely.

"Give it time, Loki." Sif broke the silence, while flipping through a glossy paged publication across the way. "Rome wasn't built in a day. Your relationship won't either."

"Easy for you to say,"

"Everyone's circumstances are different. You aren't doing yourself any favors by comparing it to mine. You have a unique situation of your own, and you need to mindful of that."

"Pardon me for being frustrated by this."

"You've waited thirty-four years, what are a few more weeks or months?"

"Or years," he interjected with a sneer.

Patience had never one of Loki's strong points. Even as a child, he had been finicky and unable to sit for prolonged periods of time. He had gotten better with age, but only barely. And Bucky was trying his patience on a daily basis, and he would have to put up with it. If he wanted any opportunity for happiness, he had to let Bucky lead the way, no matter how distasteful and maddening it was.

"Well, it's up to you whether you destroy your chance happiness or not. Everyone around you can give you advice, but if you aren't willing to follow it then that's your own fault. But throwing a hissy fit when things don't go your way is ridiculous." Sif glanced up at him without any sympathy in her eyes.

"I have every right to be upset!"

"Fine then be upset. Does it make you feel any better or do you still feel miserable?"

"Why are you on his side?"

"I didn't think it was a matter of picking sides, dummy. I figured I could make your life easier by telling you how your behavior isn't doing you any favors. You're jeopardizing your relationship with your omega because you want to be in total control."

"It's not a matter of control!" He protested and felt a headache coming on.

No one truly understood how he felt. Loneliness had ebbed away at him on a daily basis, until he realized he was no longer alone in the world. When he discovered Bucky, he had been elated and filled with love; all he wanted to do was to love him and be loved in return. But things hadn't gone the way he planned.

He'd been rejected; he'd been made to feel small and insignificant by the person who he was connected to on the most meaningful level imaginable. How could he not be angry and deeply depressed by it? Why couldn't people understand he wasn't trying to be difficult, but that his heart was broken?

Sinking further in his chair, Loki cradled his head with one hand. He needed to put everything into perspective somehow. At least, Bucky had agreed to see Dr. Banner; even if he was manipulated into doing so by Steve. And maybe he didn't need to know the details as of yet. There was a great possibility that they would only upset him further anyway.

There was only so much he could do at this point. He could lead a horse to water, but he couldn't make it drink. Bucky would do whatever he wanted; he was as hardheaded as him, which he hadn't been prepared for. So there wasn't any way to strong arm him into compliancy at all. Bucky must have emulated alphas in his youth, in order to survive around them.

"This is harder than you can even imagine, Sif." He took in a deep breath, but felt no better. "Being rejected by my omega is far more painful than I can even describe. All I can say is that it feels like my very soul is being ripped to pieces. And then I'm being told to sit quietly and allow it to happen because it'll eventually be better."

"I didn't mean it that way." Sif said quickly and within moments, she had stood, walked to him, dropped onto the arm of his chair and wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders. "I know you're in a horrible place, Loki. I can't even imagine the pain you're going through. But if you allow your pain to get in the way of your common sense, you'll end up in even more pain; worse pain, even."

Loki already knew as much. If he put too much pressure on Bucky, the likelihood that he would completely reject him was gravely possible. Then where would that leave him? On the verge of suicide, no doubt; he could live without Bucky at this point, and he wouldn't either.

Life would be too unbearable to live without his mate. The very thought ripped him apart because he truly and honestly loved Bucky. They might be complete opposites, but that didn't deter the bond Loki felt towards him. His biology couldn't deny the connection.

"Can you imagine your life without Fandral? Do you think you could possibly survive it?"

"Loki, please,"

"No, answer the question. Could you live without Fandral? Say, he didn't share the same feelings for you and you had to watch him from afar; completely unperturbed by not being with you." He turned his head to look at her, and already knew the answer to the question.

Of course, she couldn't live without Fandral. No one could live happily without their mate; it was genetically impossible. While you could possibly survive, your existence would still be a nightmare. And who wanted to live so miserably?

"The thought's enough to make you cringe, but it's my reality. My omega is in this very city right now, and I cannot touch him or even speak to him. I don't know where he is exactly or what he's doing, and I'm supposed to be patient. I'm supposed to not overstep my boundaries, and not worry about what a doctor has told him about his condition. When I literally feel like I'm dying.

"I'm dying without him, Sif. Perhaps it sounds overdramatic, but that's how it feels. That's how it feels every waking moment when I'm not with him. When I'm told to keep my distance and to hold back what I feel for him. It's a death sentence."

"Don't talk like that." Sif said fiercely and squeezed his shoulders hard. She might have looked like a delicate maiden, but she was stronger than most men. Her alpha status was well-established and he had seen it many times over.

Rather than invoke Sif's wrath, Loki clamped down on the self-pitying speech that he had running through his head nonstop. He understood that things couldn't always go his way, and quite frankly he'd been very fortunate. His family was wealthy, which meant he didn't go without anything. He also had the opportunity to travel the world, to go to an Ivy League school, and have an incredible career because of it.

He lived a charmed life, even if he had had a difficulty finding his mate. Some things simply couldn't be handed to him on a silver platter. He had to work for them; he had to work harder than he ever worked for anything when it dealt with Bucky especially.

Lying down and crying wouldn't do him any good. While every cell in his body was in constant and torturous pain, he knew patience was his only tool for success. He had to learn that Bucky was his own person and his feelings were valid, too. He couldn't allow his nature to dictate his actions, unless he wanted to fail.

"I know what I have to do; that part is easy. I need to give James his space; while I can provide him with the best specialist in the city, maybe even the country, I can't demand answers and be overly involved. But my instincts tell me otherwise; sometimes they're so strong, I can't even bloody think straight."

"Which is understandable and natural, you know,"

"Maybe so, but stifling my impatience is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I want him in my arms now! Why should I have to wait?"

"Life isn't fair sometimes. I can't say I know how you feel because that would be a lie. But I do know that your patience will pay off in the long run. It might not seem like that, however you will be with your omega one day. And when you are with him, you'll realize the waiting was worth it."

"I hope you're right because everything seems so bleak at times that I don't know what to do." He breathed out heavily. "Although, when I visited his apartment something peculiar happened. And it was enough to give me some hope, even if it was short-lived."

"You mean beyond him agreeing to see Dr. Banner?"

"That wasn't of his own volition; his best friend forced him into it. Anyway, he allowed me to hold his hand briefly, and afterwards I saw it begin to shake; almost as if he craved my touch, too."

"See, all hope isn't lost yet!" Sif loosened her hold on his shoulders. "That's a good sign, Loki. Hold onto that when the going gets tough."

The memory had sustained him for the days that they'd been apart. He had analyzed it backwards and forward in his mind, fantasizing up some lovely thoughts. He envisioned Bucky's whole body convulsing and begging for his touch, which he would have gladly given him.

There were so many dreams of his that involved Bucky stripped bare, completely pliant to his every whim, and taking his knot with flushed cheeks and a slack mouth. Oh, how he dreamt of the day that that would become a reality!

Suddenly very aware of the nature of his thoughts, Loki shifted his eyes onto Sif. While his friend was a beautiful woman to be sure, she did little for him. She was an alpha, after all, and alphas were not attracted to one another based solely on nature. So her presence calmed his unsightly thoughts almost immediately.

Sif had a healthy smell of floral bouquets but dark wood, too. She was distinctly alpha and that didn't appeal to him in any way. And he knew that the feeling was mutual, which sustained their friendship quite well instead of making it a pissing contest like some alpha-alpha friendships tended to be.

"I wish I knew what happened with Dr. Banner, though. That would ease some of the tension."

"I don't think it would. I think it would drive you crazier than you already are now."

"I suppose you're right." He muttered. "But if there's any hope that James could feel our connection, I would like to know right away. I don't want to find out months from now that it is an impossibility."

The thought was definitely a horrible one. No matter how he tried to put a positive spin to it, he couldn't foresee a future for himself without Bucky by his side. He only hoped that someone would inform him of the state of the situation soon, so at least he could make arrangements either way. But he wouldn't tell Sif that, even if she probably already knew. She would have to know.

Living with your mate was one of the worst fates imaginable. But he had to remind himself that Sif had a point, Rome hadn't been built in a day. He had to hold on with both hands to any sliver of hope that he could find until he was absolutely certain about the situation.


	14. Chapter Thirteen :: Therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always worried my writing is redundant and boring. :X

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**Chapter Thirteen :: Therapy**

 

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Dr. Banner's office was an eclectic combination of styles. Despite his practice being located in a sleek and modern building, the interior was anything but. African masks lined one wall, while another had a large bookcase with hundreds of publications on its shelves. The floor was covered in an elaborate Persian rug, and there were statues of Buddha and Ganesha that cropped up unexpectedly in the room. There was even a water fixture that bubbled calmly in the corner.

The man himself seemed oddly misplaced in such an exotic design. Dr. Banner sat behind a large wooden desk with his fingers in a steeple below his chin. His glasses had slid down the bridge of his nose to reveal kind but guarded eyes. He looked plain and unobtrusive, and he was easily overshadowed by his possessions.

"I'm glad we could meet on such short notice, Mr. Odinson."

"My pleasure," Loki had taken a seat in front of the doctor's desk, filled with anxiety.

The call had been an unexpected one, especially with the radio silence he'd been met with the day before. Dr. Banner had made it perfectly clear that any information involving Bucky's treatment was confidential; hence it served very little purpose for Loki to even contact him. But it appeared he must have had a change of heart.

"I imagine you know why I asked you to come in." Dr. Banner dropped his hands, before reaching for a file on his desk. "It involves James Barnes."

"I'm quite aware of that, Dr. Banner. I assumed you were under the guise of doctor-patient privilege, though. That's not to say I'm not unhappy that you've come around."

"That's not why I asked you here, Mr. Odinson. I take my professional ethics very seriously; I would never release any information about my patient without their go-ahead."

"Then why would you ask me here in the first place?" Loki asked in confusion.

He and Dr. Banner hadn't any unfinished business that he could think of. The only ties they had with one another had been through Bucky. He had reached out to the doctor because Fandral had recommended him from what omega periodicals that he'd been reading. Dr. Banner was supposed to be the premiere specialist in the field of omegas; he was also a licensed psychotherapist, so he also could provide support to Bucky mentally as well.

"After my initial appointment with James, I recommended we do some blood work on him. Unfortunately, this proved to be an issue." Dr. Banner flipped open his file and lifted the front page to study one underneath it. "James revealed to me that he doesn't have any insurance, so the expense would be completely out of pocket. With that in mind, he refused to do any of the tests I had set up for him."

Why wasn't he surprised to hear that? Loki had been willing to pay for the doctor visit, but he hadn't taken into account that Bucky might not have had health insurance. Maybe he had known as much already since he was a tattoo artist not a banker on Wall Street, and he happened to run his own business on top of that.

Despite universal health care being set in place a few years beforehand, there were still many Americans that went without it. Individuals who had yet to find their mates had a greater probability of being uninsured, and Bucky really didn't need a doctor if he was getting his prescription off the streets.

"In other words, you would like me to cover the costs." He said without any inflection.

"That's an option, yes. But if you would prefer not to then that's fine as well. I have to admit that James wasn't enthusiastic about having so many tests run on him anyway."

"I imagine so; he would be perfectly fine remaining ignorant about his medical problems, since he's under the impression that I won't bother him anymore if that's the case."

"But that wouldn't be the case, I know." Dr. Banner provided with a small smile.

There wasn't any way that Loki would walk away from Bucky willingly. He would be more than happy to open up his check book and write out any amount that Dr. Banner threw his way. Money wasn't an object to him; it had little value to him in comparison to his mate.

"No, it wouldn't. As a fellow alpha, I believe you'd understand that."

"That depends on what you're referring to. Do you mean as a licensed professional or on a personal basis?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes, there is." Dr. Banner removed his glasses and set them onto his desk. "Before I chose to specialize on omegas, I practiced general medicine. I've had some insight on alphas, which helped along the way with my current practice. So I do understand alphas behaviorally. That doesn't mean I can always pin down my own behaviors quite so easily. It's hard to be objective about yourself."

Loki studied the doctor closely. Dr. Banner wasn't your stereotypical alpha; not many people were like the well-publicized description, though. He seemed calm and non-assertive, the type of man that could be trampled on without any problem whatsoever. But looks were ultimately deceiving.

Underneath that Zen-like aura, Dr. Banner could be an alpha male to end all others. It was impossible to tell, unless his mate was in heat though. That had a way of revealing an alpha's personality unlike anything else. Loki feared he would be even more irrational if Bucky was in the midst of a heat cycle. Then again, that might never become an issue for him.

"I won't let him brush me off, Dr. Banner. But there will be a time when I know my hardheadedness will not be enough. And when that time comes I won't have much of a choice now, will I? I'll have to accept it, not because I want to but because there's nothing I can do to change things in my favor. Especially if he's incapable of loving me the way I do him."

"Positivity goes a long way during trying times."

"You're not the first to say as much. No, Dr. Banner I have had many people advise me to be patient and think on the brighter side of things. As one friend put it – Rome wasn't built in a day."

"Good analogy," Dr. Banner chuckled, before he turned serious moments later. "You're an attorney; you know I can't reveal any information about my patient without consent. I wish I could expand on what I know, but I can't. The only thing I can ask of you is to pay for the blood tests, and then I'll have some solid information for you in the future. Of course, if James allows me to tell you."

Loki hadn't any qualms about paying for the blood work to be done. He hadn't expected to do anything otherwise. It was him, after all, that wanted Bucky to see a specialist and he should be the one to carry the financial responsibilities.

"I'm more than willing to pay for anything that you need. Whatever tests you want to run, I'll take the brunt of the expenses."

"I appreciate your willingness to help, Mr. Odinson."

"Of course," he nodded absently, before he was struck by a sudden sense of hopelessness.

Something told him that this was all a wild goose chase. There probably wouldn't be a happy ending in his future, and that was a terrifying thought. Even though he had recognized it previously, there seemed to be some kind of reality to it now when he was sitting across from the doctor who'd be able to determine Bucky's physical state.

Whatever barrage of tests Dr. Banner intended on running, and their inevitable results, would determine Loki's fate. His whole life was on the chopping block, and this mild-mannered man was the one holding the blade over him.

"Mr. Odinson," Dr. Banner said his name, although he was spiraling into a depressive state.

Why bother if the results would prove that Bucky was beyond his reach? Why did he cling to any hope when he knew things wouldn't work out in his favor anyhow? Thirty-four years of waiting and wishing and praying, and they would all be for naught. He had a feeling that that was what would happen.

"Mr. Odinson," Dr. Banner repeated, but this time the other man had stood from his seat with concern etched into his features. "Are you all right?"

Without a reply, the doctor walked around his desk to stand in front of him. He bent down to stare into his face, where his concern seemed to become more evident than before. Loki opened his mouth to say something to brush away his behavior, but he could only laugh hollowly.

Dr. Banner reached for him then, he tilted his face up and studied him for what felt like hours. He didn't know what Dr. Banner was looking for; maybe he was looking for signs of his declining mental health. That would be understandable, since Loki was pretty sure that he was going crazy more often than not.

His emotions were everywhere; frustration, elation, depression, and anxiety were only a few of the things he felt on a daily basis now. While he managed to function quite spectacularly despite the circumstances, he knew his mental health was at risk.

"Doctor, do you happen to know of any prescription that could help with my mood? Because quite frankly, I don't think I can handle this onslaught of emotions anymore. My aggression's particularly unmanageable,"

"So I've heard." Dr. Banner pulled away. "There are several medicines on the market that are meant to level out aggression in alphas; I haven't seen any that work very well, unfortunately. But that doesn't mean we can't find one for you anyway. It's worth a try, even if I'm not your physician."

"Then I'll become a patient, since you have said you practiced general medicine before shifting your focus elsewhere."

"Better yet, I have a colleague that might be a better fit for you. His name is Stephen Strange; in fact, he works on the fourth floor of this very building."

"You're sending me to a doctor called Strange? For some reason, I don't find that appealing especially since I have you right in front of me. It wouldn't be a conflict of interest to treat me and my omega, you know."

"Despite his name, Dr. Strange is a very competent doctor."

"Whether or not he's competent is no concern of mine. You're in front of me, Dr. Banner. You could exam me and prescribe something to stabilize my mood swings. Or in the very least, something that'll even out my aggression even if it's minor.

"I want to ensure that James feels comfortable with me. I haven't done a very good job on providing him with the space and security he needs. I can't help it, though. My natural impulse is to find him and protect him. If you're bonded you'd know that, and you'd also know that James isn't happy with my appearance in his life."

"I know that, yes." Dr. Banner sighed, before he leaned back against the edge of his desk.

Several moments ticked away; Dr. Banner appeared to be in the middle of deep thought, probably attempting to find a solution to appease Loki while also ensuring it wouldn't be a conflict of interests because of it. Loki understood why he might think that; Bucky was his patient and he undoubtedly told him to some extent what Loki had done to him.

God only knew if the details had been embellished or not. But if they had, he suspected that Dr. Banner wouldn't have been so welcoming to him. He was also a notable omega advocate. Or so he had been told at length by Fandral, after he devoured every article written about the man.

"I'll only agree to this if you consider therapy sessions as well. Your aggression is only one problematic trait in the scheme of things. If I can convince James to do the same, I think it would ultimately do you some good. But he'll be the final say so, at least when it comes to joint therapy sessions. I would still like to see you on a one-on-one basis as well."

"Since I'm here, why don't we start this therapy session now? I'll pay double for your time, Dr. Banner."

"Money isn't my object, Mr. Odinson. James is a very unique case, and you need to learn how to approach him in a way that won't harm either of you. You're also a victim in this, but you also have to take responsibility for your actions, too. He's no different in that respect either. There needs to be accountability on both sides."

"I agree with you. Now shall we begin?" Loki asked hopefully and received a nod in return.

At least he could be active in his own self-care until Bucky came around (if ever). But he wouldn't think about that now; he had endless hours in the day to depress himself if he was inclined to.


	15. Chapter Fourteen :: The Itch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know invested I am in writing at this point; I'll try to update when I get some inspiration, though.

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  **Chapter Fourteen :: The Itch**

 

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Therapy was not a place of self-discovery for Bucky. It was an exercise in self-restraint. Wearily, he slouched in his seat and stared at Dr. Banner; who met his eyes without any sense of intimidation. If anything, he was expectant; hopeful for some kind of breakthrough that seemed doubtful to come.

How could he honestly peel away the years of self-protection now? It seemed counterproductive and a bit stupid. Because then there would be someone else on the planet that would know exactly how to break him, and who would want that?

"We can sit here for as long as you want." Dr. Banner finally spoke with a small smile. "Therapy can be a little daunting at first."

"Kind of pointless if you ask me,"

"From outside appearances, maybe,"

"I know how this goes. You want me to go on about my childhood traumas, so you can unearth the reason why I don't want to bond with my supposed mate. Then you'll try to find a solution and everyone lives happily ever after." Bucky said grimly.

Recently, he had been even more agitated than usual. His skin itched with the sensation; sometimes his bones ached, which couldn't be remedied by hot showers or aspirin. Something felt like it was missing, and that only furthered his annoyance even more.

He hadn't mentioned any of this to another soul. Steve proved to be someone that he couldn't rely on currently, since he was in close contact with Loki. So he had kept his inner turmoil to himself and hoped by the grace of god that it would go away on its own.

"I'm only here to help you, James."

"No, you're here to help the guy who's paying you. That isn't me."

"If money was the object, rest assured I would have become a trader on Wall Street." Dr. Banner twirled his fountain pen. "While my income has gone up over the years, by New York standards I'm not reaping the benefits of my trade. And that is fine with me, since my goal is to help people rather than make money from them."

Bucky churned that information around in his head. It seemed unlikely that someone would do anything out of the kindness of their heart. Then again, he hadn't exactly been exposed to the most compassionate people around in his lifetime. But there was Steve and Steve was too kind for his own good.

Dr. Banner didn't seem like a terrible person either. Not from the few encounters Bucky had had with him. He seemed to genuinely care in his own way, and showed an infinite amount of patience with him during his more hardheaded of moments. That should count for something in the very least.

"What'll you gain if you help me?" He asked suspiciously.

"The knowledge that I helped another human being; that's the greatest reward I can think of. I know it seems difficult to believe, but I'm actually happy to help people. I'm sure you've haven't met very many who weren't out for their own gain."

"Tell me about it."

"It's hard for you to trust people." Dr. Banner paused mid-twirl with his pen.

It wasn't a question, obviously. Anyone with a working set of eyes could tell that Bucky had an issue with trust. Not many people had proven themselves worthy of being trusted, in his opinion. So he had a tendency to be constantly on guard and standoffish.

He wasn't unfriendly, though. He liked people; it would be difficult to be in the business he was in if he didn't at least have a fondness towards others. But that didn't mean he gave himself away completely to anyone. Hell, he hadn't done that with Steve; even though he had wanted to.

Steve wouldn't have understood his feelings anyway. Being romantically entwined with anyone but your designated partner would have been awkward for the majority of people. Or so that's what Bucky understood from the endless barrage of information on the topic.  He just didn't know that personally.

"People have a tendency to hurt one another without a second thought. Which is why I understand your suspicions about the people around you; and quite frankly, your alpha didn't make this transition any easier on you either."

"That might be the understatement of the century."

"Probably so," Dr. Banner smiled softly. "Trust needs to be earned; I know that all too well. But sometimes you need to give people the opportunity to earn that trust, James."

Bucky shifted in his chair and lowered his eyes. He had fallen into Dr. Banner's snare almost too easily. Although there was a great probability that he wanted to discuss some of the things that had been on his mind for years, and this was the only safe haven in which to do it. Maybe this was a golden opportunity to vent.

"You can't trust too many people in the foster system. You only get your hopes up and then they're crushed in the end." He mumbled and continued to keep his gaze down. "I learned early on that people pretty much lie out of their asses the majority of the time. So you might as well have your defenses up to avoid the bullshit that follows."

"That's a pretty bleak outlook, don't you think?"

"If you're looking for the hopeless optimist, you might have to try a few of my friends. Sorry, doc,"

"I'm not judging you, James. Anything you have to say won't cause me to think any differently about you. This a safe place for you to speak your mind; whatever it may be. None of this will go to your alpha."

"Christ, I hate that word." Bucky lifted his head. "I hate that I even have one. I figured I'd walk the planet without being bothered. I figured whoever was my mate was long dead or settled down or something. And then out of nowhere this asshole just appears and turns my world upside down. Plus, he doesn't even care. He doesn't fucking care because it's all about him."

Dr. Banner listened expressionlessly. His only reaction was to continue twirling his pen between his fingers, in a way that was oddly calming. And that seemed to be Bucky's go-ahead to complain and talk as much as he wanted. Because he knew Dr. Banner wouldn't look at him any differently; he cared but it wasn't a judgmental sort of caring.

"What's worse is that everyone in my life is siding with him. They think I should just jump into this stranger's arms and be done with it. I should pack up shop and call it a day."

"That would be very frustrating."

"Beyond frustrating," Bucky corrected. "I mean I understand where they're coming from. They get to have these feelings and reactions, so they think I've hit the lottery when they meet their mate. But they won't back off because they don't want to think of how alien it is that I don't understand this whole alpha-omega thing."

At that, Dr. Banner wrote something down on the legal pad balanced on his knee. Whatever he thought noteworthy of documenting was brief; a few strokes of ink, before returning to his previous fidgeting. Which oddly enough didn't bother Bucky as it should; maybe he was really starting to like Dr. Banner, after all.

He supposed if he had to see a doctor week in and week out that Dr. Banner was a good choice. Considering how pushy everyone was around him were of late, it was nice to be with someone who wouldn't try and force him to make a life altering decision within the snap of his fingers. He had actual support here.

"I imagine you're incredibly overwhelmed by your mate's appearance in your life. Everything you've known for your entire life has suddenly changed. Not only that though, everyone around you has chosen for you what's best."

"They're not listening to me. I feel like I'm screaming at the top of my lungs and everyone's ignoring me. It's like I'm some kid having a tantrum and they figure by pretending that I'm invisible, it'll make me shut up."

"In their own way, they think they're helping."

"But if I can't feel anything, how in the hell is that helping?" Bucky asked, before that annoying itching sensation prickled down his body; to the point where he squirmed in his seat even more prominently than before.

It didn't help any, unfortunately. He had tried a varying degree of methods to make himself somewhat comfortable. He had taken long, hot showers; brief, cold ones. He scratched all over his body, and even tried smearing lotion all over his skin to no avail.  The feeling persisted and drove him to the point of madness.

"What's the matter, James?" Dr. Banner looked concerned, as he scratched at the back of his head fiercely.

"Beat's me,"

"Is it something physical?"

"I think it's in my head, actually." He paused and tried to will the annoyance away. "I have this itchy feeling all over and nothing will make it go away. I've tried everything, so it must be a mental thing. Maybe I'm going crazy."

There was a subtle shift that happened on Dr. Banner's face, which only made the itchiness worse. Slowly, Dr. Banner set aside his legal pad and pen; he then stood from his seat and leaned against the corner of his desk with another one of his smiles.

Bucky slouched down further in his chair; he didn't like that look at all. Something told him that he wouldn't like whatever Dr. Banner was about to say. Then again, he had his suspicions of his own what this was all about. But if he lived in a constant state of denial, he would be a lot happier.

"I think you know what that's about."

"I think you think I know, but I really don't."

"James," Dr. Banner chuckled with a shake of his head. "I haven't gotten your blood work back, but this is a rather promising development. Most individuals have described an irritability when they've spent prolonged days away from their mates. In the earlier stages of a bonding, it can be almost unbearable."

Something unpleasant rolled inside Bucky's stomach. There was no way that he could be developing any kind of attachment to that snob that was supposedly his alpha. The irritability was only the byproduct of being put into this situation. It had to be.

After thirty years of going without any kind of urges, there wasn't any possibility that he was unearthing them now. He couldn't be; he had been pumped up on heat suppressants since he was kid. He was beyond repair and everyone knew it. Dr. Banner knew it.

Wildly, he shook his head. He wasn't going to believe it; he wouldn't believe it. He knew himself better than that and he hadn't even gone off his heat suppressants. If anything, he'd taken an extra pill a day to compensate for now being in contact with Loki.

"No, you're wrong."

"It's perfectly natural, James. Trust me."

"I've been on heat suppressants before puberty. That obviously fucked me up; you even said as much."

"I didn't know if the damage was reversible or not, but evidently it is. You aren't reacting similarly to someone who hasn't been on heat suppressants for most of your life. But that might mean your reactions are delayed. They might not have the intensity either, which isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"Stop it,"

"This is a good thing; a step in the right direction."

"I said stop!" Bucky yelled, which surprised them both. "Shut up, okay! I don't want to hear it! I know this isn't what you think it is! I know me! I don't care if you have some fancy degree and a title! I know me and I know I'm not like everyone else!"

Suddenly, the room seemed too small for him to be in. His skin felt tight and suffocating, and he wanted to crawl out of himself and run away. Because this could not be happening to him; he couldn't possibly be developing a dependency on his supposed alpha. It was too much for him to handle and he wanted to cry.

Before the tears could fill his eyes, Bucky leapt out of his seat and practically sprinted across Dr. Banner's office. Dr. Banner called out to him, but he all but ignored the plea to calm down. He didn't want to calm down; he didn't want to be an adult about this topic anymore. He already compromised enough.  He made the effort and he was done.

It took only a few minutes for him to escape Dr. Banner's compound and rush out into the building's hallway. Instead of taking the elevator, he found the stairwell and ran down several flights until his sides burned like an inferno and his head was on the verge of exploding. He let out a wet laugh as he came to a halt and leaned against the concrete wall, which was cool to the touch.

Why did any of this happen? Why couldn't Loki just stay away? Why did he lend Steve his jacket? All those questions echoed through his head, but there weren't any answers.  There probably wouldn't ever be any answers; there never were.

"Fate," he laughed again, and felt a tear roll down his cheek. "Or something like it."


	16. Chapter Fifteen :: Unrequited Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter Fifteen :: Unrequited Still**

 

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Days passed slowly. Twenty-four hours felt like a small lifetime, and there wasn't a distraction in the world that could help Loki think of anything but Bucky. Every part of his body ached; every breathing moment was consumed by a man that he barely knew. And the problem was becoming increasingly bad.

Loki lied supine on the living room floor as his elder brother buzzed by. Thor had insisted on staying for several days, in order to watch out for him. Sif had been to blame for that, and he honestly couldn't say he'd forgiven her of yet. But even that had taken a backseat to the yearning he was currently a victim of.

He never knew you could be heart sick. Movies had shown stupidly flamboyant tales of love found and love lost, all of which he took with a grain of salt. Reality was different; it was messier than whatever was portrayed in mainstream media. And yet, here he was; lying there like a lump with a pain so transparent in his chest that he couldn't move a muscle.

"He'll come around." Thor said above him. "It's only a matter of time."

"Yes, and if I die by then,"

"Loki, please,"

"I'm not being overdramatic." He insisted firmly. "You've never experienced this and you never will. So stop trying to make me feel better. It'll never work."

Thor stopped his back and forth right above him. He didn't bother to make eye contact, though. His head was hurting too much, and he might very well vomit if he did attempt it. He already taxed himself by getting out of bed and showering this morning. He wasn't about to do any more than he already needed to.

"That's it." Thor boomed much too loudly to be appreciated. "This has been going on for far too long; it ends today."

"So you're finally going to kill me."

"Shut up, Loki." Thor walked away, only to return with a familiar object in hand; a cellphone to be more accurate.

Despite his persistent need for independence and control, Loki didn't deter Thor from scrolling through his phone like a man with a mission. It was already apparent what Thor was up to and quite frankly, Loki didn't mind so much that he was taking things into his own hands.

That was probably what the situation called for. Someone who was righteously outraged by the suffering Loki was going through. At least, he wouldn't come off as self-centered that way. He had several witnesses that could vouch for his sorry state.

He was desperate enough to use his suffering as a strategic move to see his mate. Maybe he shouldn't have, but at this point he could hardly think straight. The pain was too apparent and gnawed at every single nerve-ending in his body. He could feel guilty about it later.

Thor scrolled through his contact list for what seemed like an eternity. He eventually found what he was looking for. Sometime during Thor's visit, Loki had mentioned his only contact to his mate was through Steve. Undoubtedly, that was the number that Thor had found and was in the middle of calling.

It was impossible to say how long Thor stood above him with the phone pressed to his ear. Loki hadn't a very good grasp on time. He hadn't a very good grasp on anything at all in this state. If he was only given the opportunity to touch Bucky then everything would make so much more sense. He knew that for a fact.

"Yes, is this Steve?" Thor spoke in a steely voice that reverberated through Loki's bones. "This is Thor, Loki's brother. I need you to bring his omega here immediately. And this isn't a request; my brother's in a bad state and he needs to be in contact with his mate now."

Loki rolled his eyes in order to see his brother. His mouth was set into a thin line as he listened to whatever Steve had to say on the other line. He could only imagine Steve was trying to be as diplomatic as possible without stepping on anyone's toes. But that probably wouldn't work very well on Thor.

"This isn't up for debate. You need to bring him here now." Thor stated tersely. "My brother cannot even function. He's lying on the floor and he's unable to move! Bring him here as soon as possible!  I won't take no for an answer!"

Probably before Steve could even respond, Thor prattled off the apartment's address and hung up. He then looked down at Loki grimly, in no way victorious by what he'd done. Because neither of them knew if Steve would even bring Bucky there. And even if he agreed to it, the likelihood that he could actually drag Bucky there was slim to none.

Bucky was as hardheaded as it got. While he did agree to see Dr. Banner for blood work and also therapy, it didn't mean he'd do anything to help Loki personally. And that ripped away at Loki's heart to know that; to know that his mate was living without any distress without him.

"He'll be here." Thor assured, although there wasn't any confidence in his tone. "If not, I'll track him down myself and drag him kicking and screaming back here."

"I think that would be considered kidnapping."

"I have the best lawyer in Manhattan in front of me."

"In no shape whatsoever to defend you in court." He shut his eyes. "Why did this happen to me? What have I done to deserve this kind of punishment, Thor?"

Thor was quiet, which he expected. He honestly didn't believe there was an answer to his question. He might have been cocky and frequently unpleasant when he was in a mood. But that wasn't enough to explain why he'd been fated to live an unfulfilled life, far away from his mate.

"How can you blame yourself for this?"

"Well, who else can I blame?"

"Your omega, for one," Thor sounded vicious, which led to Loki reopening his eyes.

"Repeat that again."

"Your omega is to blame."

"You have some nerve." Loki felt a well of anger in the center of his chest. If he could manage to get up, he would have probably struck Thor and beaten him into a bloody pulp.

Even though he'd been prescribed some pills to dampen his emotions, they weren't doing a very good job. He had every intention of returning to Dr. Banner to explain this development. Unfortunately, he hadn't gotten the opportunity with his current bout of immobility.

No matter how many prescriptions he could take, Loki was certain nothing would help with his haywire of emotions. Bucky was the only cure, and he was out of reach. At this rate, he probably always would be. He was better off killing himself for all it was worth.

Thor seemed to come to his senses because he didn't try to argue the point. Instead his brother walked away and out of view, which was for the best. An argument at the moment wouldn't have served either of them well. It would have only made things worse.

So Loki remained on the floor, while Thor busied himself with whatever struck his fancy. They functioned that way for a while until there was a loud rap at the door that broke the uncomfortable reverie of the apartment.

The sound almost caused Loki to sit up, but midway in the process; he gave up and dropped his head to the orient rug that covered the cherry wood floorboards. Something roared inside of him; it felt like a lion had been trapped in his chest cavity and was fighting to be let free. And it made him squirm miserably since he couldn't see where Thor was or if he was headed to the door.

His brother must have gone to the door because moments later there were murmured voices, and a door being shut tightly soon thereafter. Several pairs of feet echoed in the front hallway and eventually into the living room, where Loki had dropped like a stone hours beforehand. But what really struck him was the faint, almost odorless, scent that filled his nostrils.

"As I told you," Thor announced like some sort of television host.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Bucky's voice sounded like salvation in the flesh.

"Touch him."

"Touch him?"

"Bucky, please," Steve interjected. "Don't be difficult; I'm begging you.  Please,"

Whatever was unfolding above Loki soon came to a resolution. Bucky appeared in his sight and his faint scent sparked a wildfire in his bones. His mate looked unhappy, but that didn't stop him from crouching on the floor; before choosing instead to drop onto his bottom next to Loki.

Without any preamble, Bucky grabbed his hand in a firm grasp. The affects were immediate and heady even. The pain and confusion started to clear away; replaced by pleasure. It was enough to give Loki the energy to slowly sit up and bury his face into the crook of Bucky's neck.

Bucky tensed but did not move. He allowed Loki to breathe him, to absorb his warmth, and wrap himself in it like a blanket. There wasn't any better feeling in the world than to be this close to Bucky. And it was the very first time Bucky didn't protest or break the contact seconds later.

Their hands remained entwined even when Loki pulled away to look into Bucky's eyes. Every fiber of his being wanted to kiss Bucky breathless then, although he forced that urge down into the pit of his stomach. He was already taking enough liberties as it was at the moment.

"I never imagined you'd come." He said barely above a whisper.

"Neither did I," Bucky looked away.

"I'm doing everything that I can to be better for you. Anything and everything,"

"No one asked you to."

"Neither of us asked for this, James. But I'll do anything for you."

"Besides leave me alone." Bucky shot him a weary and defeated look.

"Anything but that," Loki squeezed his hand and felt a lump form in his throat.

It seemed impossible to try and express why. Bucky couldn't understand, but more importantly he didn't want to. This wasn't something that he wanted or needed; if anything this was a huge inconvenience for him.

Despite being right in front of him, Loki knew that Bucky was beyond his reach. The only reason he was here was because of Thor and Steve; he hadn't come of his own volition. He'd never come of his own volition, and that was truly the tragedy of all of this.

What Loki felt was unrequited and it always would be.


	17. Chapter Sixteen :: Turning Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about this chapter.

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**Chapter Sixteen :: Turning Point**

 

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The whiskey burned miserably at the bottom of his stomach; a sick slosh that moved whenever Bucky took another shot. He had lost count of how many he had, but it had a cost him a pretty penny. Bars in Brooklyn weren't as devastatingly overpriced as the ones in Manhattan.

He didn't even know why he was still here. He should have gone home, away from the crippling reality of his circumstances. But for whatever reason, he couldn't leave; not right away anyway. He had left Loki's apartment without Steve, and found the coziest bar he could find; before plopping down onto a stool and starting this ridiculous ritual.

One shot, two shots, and three – it really didn't matter. It hadn't done a damn thing to wipe his mind free of the warmth Bucky had felt when in close proximity to Loki. It didn't make him forget how that insufferable itch he'd been experiencing had all but gone away when they touched. If anything, the whiskey only sharpened his memory.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, after downing another shot.

How could this be happening so apparently now? Up until a week ago, he had been independent; free of any absurd connection. But everything seemed to want to pile up on him all at once. His own damn body was beginning to betray him, and it seemed like the heat suppressants weren't doing much in terms of suppressing much of anything.

Maybe he was finally building a resistance to them. Or maybe he had gotten some cheap placebo shit from his usual dealer. It really wouldn't surprise him that a two-bit criminal decided to fuck him over with fake product. Because honestly how would he have really known if they worked when he didn't have a partner?

"A heat, you idiot," he answered aloud and dropped his head to the bar's smooth surface, since he knew this entire thing was inevitable. Death was the only thing that would stop it.

The itch would never go away. Not entirely anyway; not unless he was in close proximity to Loki. And whenever they were separated, it might gnaw away at him like an unformed thought at the back of his mind until they were reunited.

It was a life of dependency. Everything he had worked so tirelessly for would be thrown to the wayside. He would have to give up his business and his apartment, and basically become a pliant little whore for his alpha. He would be expected to serve because that's what omegas did.

Lifting his head, Bucky reached into his pocket and slapped a twenty to the bar; suddenly determined to do something about this awful situation. It wouldn't do him any good to drown his sorrows in whiskey. He had to stand up to the person who was threatening his livelihood. He needed to confront Loki, and make sure the fucker knew this transition wouldn't be a pleasant one.

If this was bound to happen whether he liked it or not; he wasn't going to be the stereotypical omega. He wasn't going to spread his legs and just take it. He wasn't going to be some kind of homemaker. He didn't even know how to cook!

Haphazardly, he clambered off the barstool and threw his hands out to keep balanced. The floor seemed to lazily shift under his feet, but soon it stopped and he was confident enough to stagger towards the exit. No one stood in his way; maybe he didn't look as drunk as he felt or maybe it was just the nonchalance every New Yorker developed.

With a bit of swaying and weaving, Bucky pushed through the double doors. Cold night air struck him directly in the face and he cursed. But it wasn't enough to sober him up or turn him towards the nearest subway entrance. His mind was made up already on where he intended on going, and nothing was going to make him think twice about it.

The streets were still heavily trafficked. Everyone minded their own business as he stumbled into the flow of people. Sharp elbows and broad shoulders smacked into him as he tried to navigate his way from one avenue to the next. Instinctually, he knew where he was going despite the fact he'd only been there only once that afternoon.

Whether he liked it or not, Bucky knew some sort of bond had been forged between him and Loki. Which was why he found it all too easy, inebriated or not, to find his way around Manhattan without too much of a problem. He staggered and tripped on bits of broken and uneven concrete, and even ran into an annoyed looking Wall Street type, before he cut free of the crowd and found himself in front of a high-rise with a nicely dressed doorman at the entrance.

The doorman had stepped away from his post temporarily as he approached, in order to help one of the residents from a sleek black car; one that probably cost more than Bucky's entire inventory of personal items. He scowled at the thought, before he hurried into the building. He didn't want to get caught and barred from entering, especially when he was this drunk.

The lobby he stepped into was minimal but rich; it was made of mostly white marble and crystal. A modern chandelier hung boldly overhead, and white furniture was positioned below it. There was a receptionist's desk at the far wall with a bored looking woman at the helm. She didn't even seem to notice Bucky, who zigzagged his way to the banks of elevator beyond her post.

As he drew close to the elevators, a hot spicy scent filled his nostrils. He had smelled it before, but for some reason now it made him dizzy and made his mouth water. Eagerly, he slapped his hand against the up button. To his great relief, the doors rolled open right away.

He staggered into the elevator and hit the twenty-six button. The doors shut within moments and the elevator lurched to life. Bucky hadn't been prepared for it, and almost lost his footing. He grabbed for the bar mounted on the wall, keeping himself steady, before hoisting himself up into the upright position.

While the elevator ascended, the smell became far more apparent. His body started to react to it; his skin broke into goose bumps and his knees knocked together in anticipation. But it didn't have much of an effect on his mind; if anything, it only made him angrier and irrational.

Fuming, he waited impatiently for the lift to come to a stop. It didn't take long, thankfully; the doors opened once more, and revealed a hallway similarly designed to the lobby. Bucky stumbled out into the open and made a sharp left turn to where apartment 2604 was located.

The door came within reach and Bucky threw his fist uncoordinatedly at it. He pounded away at the wood, unconcerned if he disrupted anyone in the vicinity. The damn New York elite already had it easy enough; so what if he woke them up prematurely for their big corporate jobs in the morning?

"Open up, fucker." He hissed and continued to pummel away at the immaculate door in front of him.

He didn't know how many times he rapped at the door, but it was long enough to make his knuckles ache. The only reason he stopped was because the door was pulled away from him and was replaced by Loki; who looked positively wild-eyed and befuddled.

They stared at one another and the aroma wafting off of Loki was working its way under Bucky's skin again. Their instincts seemed to get the better of them all the sudden. One moment, they were under control of themselves and then the next they were possessed by something ugly and carnal.

Without exchanging any words, they were soon impossibly close to one another. Their limbs tangled around the other and their mouths smashed together in violent desperation; Bucky felt an inferno explode inside of him, but in the best way imaginable. Just as he was falling head-first into the sensation, it ended all too quickly for his liking.

Loki pushed him away and held him at arm's length. His eyes had gone wild again; possessive and savage even, and some stupid part of Bucky keened at the very thought. He shouldn't have though; he should have been angrier and far more outraged than he currently felt.  He should have punched the asshole square in the nose.

"You're drunk." Loki said, bordering on disgust.

"So what," Bucky shot back in an undeniable slur. "You aren't the boss of me! You'll never be the boss of me; I can do whatever I want and whenever I want!"

"Keep your voice down,"

"Not the boss of me,"

"Well, if you intend on being so bloody loud; come inside and do it in here. I don't need my neighbors becoming the wiser to your…spiritedness." Loki dropped his hands, before he backed away across the threshold and opened the door enough to allow Bucky passage inside.

Bucky didn't think twice about making his way into Loki's glitzy apartment. It was probably ten times bigger than his shoebox, and was filled with items that were beyond expensive. Every square inch was thoroughly thought out, and each possession was placed in a section of the room that displayed them best. Bucky hated it everything about it.

Tripping over his own two feet, Bucky moved down the short hallway that opened up into the living room. The curtains were open to reveal the Manhattan skyline, but there wasn't a television in sight. Instead there was a heavy book left abandoned on the chaise lounge, which Loki had probably been draped over before he interrupted him.

"Why did you have to come here while you were drunk?" Loki asked lowly from behind him. "Can you even comprehend how badly I want you? How I could easily take advantage of you? Do you think I'm that civilized that I wouldn't?"

The words hardly registered; the alcohol was thrumming through Bucky's veins, and that stubborn internal instinct wanted to break loss. Although, he knew it wasn't nearly as insatiable as Loki's own; his was muted in comparison but strong in its own way.

"Then what's stopping you?" He dropped like a stone to the chaise lounge, before throwing one of his legs over the back. "Here I am, helpless little omega, ripe for the picking,"

Loki let out a snarl, while shoving his hands into the pocket of navy blue robe he was wearing. Only then did Bucky notice Loki was dressed for bed; he had a robe on, flannel pants poking out from underneath it and slippers. But what really drew his eye was the V of pale skin that poked out above the heavy robe material. Loki might not have been wearing a shirt, and that made a heat scorch its way up and down his spine.

"What do you take me for?" Loki asked, although he seemed to consider the very real possibility of hopping on Bucky despite his inebriated state. "I don't know why you're here, but it would be for the best if you left. Once you've sobered up, clearly."

"Let me get this straight. Your brother calls and begs me to come see you. Now I'm here and you want me to leave?"

"You're drunk. I don't think it needs repeating."

"You smell fucking incredible.  That's the problem; really fucking good." Bucky inhaled loudly. "Could smell you from downstairs actually,"

That seemed to strike a chord in Loki because the distance between them becomes minimal at best within seconds. Loki swiped the book off the chaise lounge, and soon took its place; half kneeling between Bucky's spread legs with a delirious look on his face.

Vaguely, Bucky remembered how sensitive alphas could be. They could be set off by the smallest of things, especially if it was directed their way by their omega. He should have known better than to come here; he should have kept his mouth shut, but it was too late now. He was too drunk to make any wise decisions anyway.

Loki hovered over him, emitting that undeniably alpha scent, and Bucky felt close to doing something rash. If his appearance in Loki's apartment wasn't rash enough, of course; which anyone could tell it was. Rash and dangerous; he was at risk and he couldn't bring himself to care.

"You come to me like this. You couldn't come to me while you were sober." Loki leaned in until they were almost nose to nose. "I want you desperately, James. I don't know if I can control myself with you splayed out in front of me like this."

Bucky's heart hammered in his chest wildly. His eyes were drawn to Loki's that were dark and hungry, and his hands suddenly became mobile of their own volition. Blindly, he reached up and unknotted the robe's belt until it unfurled, and revealed snow white skin and lean muscle.

"You want me? Then come and get me." He murmured, which caused Loki to make a guttural noise.

When he was certain, absolutely certain that Loki with his spicy alpha stench, was about to ravage him; things shifted and his world was thrown on its head. Loki jerked away and grabbed him by the wrists, before hoisting him up onto his feet like he weighed nothing.

Both of them tripped on the book thrown to the floor, while they headed towards another hallway off the living room. Prized paintings lined the walls, but they were all a blur to Bucky as he was pulled past them towards a set of double doors at the very end of the corridor.

Loki yanked one of them open, releasing Bucky temporarily, and revealed an extraordinary bedroom with a four post bed and another breathtaking view of the city. He didn't have much time to admire the setting, though. Since he was being pushed hard into the bed, and then the bedroom doors were slammed shut almost immediately thereafter.

Several moments past; quiet and empty moments, which made Bucky come to himself. He was alone in the sprawling bedroom; Loki was nowhere in sight and his smell was thick but not as close as it had been.

"The hell…?" He asked no one in particular.

"You will stay in there until you sober up. I've locked the doors so I can't come in. Because if I do, I'll do something that we'll both regret. I can't control myself, James. And you are too stupid and too drunk to stop me." Loki's muffled voice came from the other side of the doors. "Once you're yourself again, you'll thank me."

"Asshole,"

"That's more like you already." Loki returned, followed by a heavy sigh. "Good night, my love. Soon, I hope, we'll be a reality."

The thick smell of alpha soon receded, which left Bucky a little more in-control. He felt the bubble of annoyance and spitefulness again, but he also was well aware of that seed of yearning inside of him. He might have been drunk and stupid, yet he knew the tide had shifted. For better or for worse, he was beginning to respond to Loki; which meant the heat suppressants hadn't done as much damage as previously believed.

He couldn't run from this connection anymore. He was, as unfortunate as it may be, Loki's omega and Loki was his alpha. And someday they would be bonded like every other alpha-omega pair on the face of the Earth. Bucky felt ill and managed to find his way into the en suite, where he vomited out half a bottle of whiskey into the toilet bowl.  Because he knew this was the turning point, and he was completely and utterly fucked.


	18. Chapter Seventeen :: A Serious Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chugging along...

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  **Chapter Seventeen :: A Serious Conversation**

 

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The night before had been hell. Loki paced from one end of the apartment to the next like a restless lion waiting for its prey. Beyond his bedroom doors, he knew his mate was vulnerable and sweeter than any peach on the planet waiting to be picked. But he couldn't do anything about it; he was better than that, even if his instincts thought otherwise.

His body had been tightly wound, which made sleep impossible. He had tried to focus on the book he'd been previously reading, and that too proved to be harder to do than it should have been. So most of the past few hours consisted of mindless pacing and violently rubbing at the bulge in between his legs; he hadn't gone so far to pleasure himself all the way, though.  Because there had been a great possibility that he could have been caught in the act, and he honestly didn't need the humiliation right now.

After a session or two with Dr. Banner, Loki knew it was imperative to maintain a hold of his emotions. He knew respect was the key to a healthy relationship between him and Bucky. If he didn't respect Bucky's boundaries and keep himself in check; then surely everything would fall to the wayside. Even if he had been lamenting only the previous afternoon about how futile everything was already.

Now that he was of a clearer head (but not entirely so), he didn't feel so helpless; Bucky had come to him, even if it took Thor and Steve to get him there. And for whatever convoluted reason, he had chosen to find him even while intoxicated. That counted for something; there was some progress, drunk or not.

Because it proved a point; whether Bucky liked it or not, he did have some internal pull to be around Loki. His defenses were at their zenith when he was lucid, but once he had several drinks in him; he let himself be taken by his instincts, hence why he had attempted to ensnare Loki with taunts of being dominated as he had done the previous night.

That knowledge fueled Loki's hope, but it didn't have any effect on his virile needs at the moment. He was desperate for release, to hold his mate down and knot inside of him. The mere thought sent a chill down his spine and an ache to his loins that wouldn't be relieved unless Bucky was in a full and substantial heat.

Unfortunately, Loki didn't believe that would come to pass. For one, Bucky was dependent on heat suppressants and probably wouldn't give them up for anything. And two, the likelihood that Bucky's biology was utterly wrecked by his abuse of the prescription was significantly high. He might have been able to feel the connection now. But that didn't mean all of their problems were solved because of it. If anything, they were probably made worse.

He worried how Bucky would react once he officially sobered up. Would he remember the wanton way he acted? And if he did, would he blame Loki for all of it? That was a likely outcome since it appeared it was Bucky's default mode to turn blame onto him one way or another.

Spent from endless hours of frustration and lack of sleep, Loki dropped to the davenport and muttered out an expletive. Why couldn't things be easy for once? While he certainly had great advantages due to his family's wealth that didn't mean everything had come so easily to him.

Attending an Ivy League school had been a stressful endeavor, followed shortly by law school. He had worked tirelessly for his success, to the point where his parents' infinite wealth ceased to be imperative for him to survive. He lived off of his own earnings and had a lavish lifestyle all the same because of it.

So in his own way, he did understand hardships; certainly not on the level of Bucky's, though. But he understood and now it seemed so much more apparent in regards with this current predicament. Something as easy as bonding with one's mate had become a trial of tribulations beyond his wildest imagination.

An abrupt laugh burst out of Loki, which he quickly silenced with a hand over his mouth. It wasn't funny, but at the same time it was. The whole thing was so damn absurd and painful, and Loki just wanted a resolution already. He was sick of the head games; he was sick of being mate-less and his body betraying him when close contact wasn't made available to him.

Why couldn't this just end already? It had been a month and a half of hell. He didn't think he could take anymore, especially with how he now knew how Bucky's lips felt underneath his. Not when he knew Bucky could smell him and appreciate it.

"I must have lived a horrific existence in my previous life." He said to no one, as he rested his head on the back of the davenport. "An awful murderer, a cannibal even,"

"Is that a confession?" Bucky's voice filled his ears; sounding like both a funeral dirge and an angel's hymn.

Loki's head snapped up and he stared at Bucky's ruffled state. His hair was sticking every which way and his eyes were bloodshot. He must have slept in his clothes because they were rumpled and unkempt. And somehow it was the most beautiful sight Loki had ever witnessed.

"How are you?"

"Dying," Bucky replied and crumpled awkwardly onto the chaise lounge. "Remind me to never drink whiskey again. I don't even know what I was thinking."

"You probably weren't."

"Sounds like me,"

"Are you always this reckless?" Loki asked, although he was afraid he'd offend Bucky sooner or later.

It was difficult for him to have a normal conversation with Bucky. He knew very little about him, and everything he had a tendency to say seemed to be offensive to him. Or maybe Bucky was intentionally being glib and annoyed with him. He couldn't tell at all.

To his credit, Bucky didn't snap at him. He instead stared out ahead of him, clearly lost in thought. Loki watched him and felt the feral need for contact spring up in his chest. But he smothered that desire, knowing they were on incredibly shaky ground already. His ferocity would only tip the scales out of his favor (if they ever were in them in the first place).

"Not always," Bucky spoke in a strangely soft voice. "I'm not as thoughtless as you probably think I am. I know I give off that impression. And with that performance last night, it pretty much proved how stupid I can get. Whiskey makes me do stupid things."

"So you remember last night."

"Not all of it; probably the stuff that matters, though."

"What matters?" Loki crossed his arms tightly around himself; he didn't trust what he'd do if he had complete and utter mobility.

Bucky looked over his shoulder at him; he cracked a defeated smile. Loki felt a squirm of discomfort at the sight, but he didn't look away. Right now his mate was in front of him, and he didn't know how long he'd have the sight of him; so he'd be damned if he looked away now.

"No matter how hard I fight it, we're mates." Bucky looked away. "I figured I was broken; Dr. Banner thought there wasn't any way to fix me. But then all the sudden I started to get this itchy feeling all over my body, and I was just annoyed a lot. And then Dr. Banner said it's because we've been apart too long.

"Right now, I don't feel it at all. Not really anyway, which is kind of scary since it means Dr. Banner's right."

"Why are you so afraid of this?" Loki asked plainly.

Through various sources, he'd been told why Bucky objected to their coupling. However, he hadn't heard it directly from Bucky. Or at least, he hadn't heard an answer that was purely honest and not self-serving. He wanted to hear it, even if it did hurt.

Bucky slouched awkwardly against the chaise lounge; even going so far as to kick his feet out and splay his legs in an imitation of a drunkard. Loki supposed it wasn't that far from the truth; he had been drinking whiskey the previous night, after all.

"I thought you already knew. But I guess you want an in-depth explanation." Bucky sounded dead-tired. "Just imagine all your life you've believed one thing, and then one day everything changes. Everything you've put weight behind was a lie. And the people around you expect you to assume a role you have no clue how to take on.

"Imagine a stranger coming into your life and expecting something of you that you can't provide. And when you don't go along with it, you're the bad guy. When in all actuality, you're just trying to hold onto the life you've built from absolutely nothing. Not to mention my body's going crazy on me too; so I'm kind of upset about it."

"It's my fault you feel that way. I certainly wasn't subtle or understanding was I?" Loki admitted, although it left a bitter taste in his mouth to admit it. It wasn't one of his strong suits by far.

Silence fell between them; it wasn't uncomfortable, thankfully. Loki eyed the ruffled disaster of Bucky's hair and the width of his shoulders and the soft features of his profile. His heart swelled in his chest, filled to the brink with love and incapable of showing it like he wanted to.

One day maybe he would be able to show Bucky affection; he hoped so anyway. He hoped that Bucky would stop fighting him and realize that this wasn't the end of anything; that this was, in fact, only the beginning of something wonderful. But something told him that that Bucky's frankness currently might not last when it came to their next encounter.

Everything was up in the air at this point, and Loki knew he had to show some restraint. He needed to give Bucky his space. They needed to go at Bucky's pace not his own. And at least, they might stand a chance.

"You're not that bad of a guy, I guess." Bucky spoke again. "I mean I didn't like you based on principle alone. I probably jumped to conclusions right away."

"I'm not innocent in that respect either, James."

"This doesn't change much of anything, though."

"I had a feeling that it wouldn't." Loki sighed and looked down at his slippers.

He wasn't surprised by this revelation; it was inevitable that this moment of civility was because Bucky was too hung over to put up a fight. However, there was a renewed hope; Bucky knew it was inevitable that they would end up together. It might take longer than Loki had hoped for, but at least it was slowly becoming a reality of some sort.

It was important that he keep the faith, while also practicing unwavering patience. He needed to be the man that Bucky needed, not the one who he assumed he was. Because their coupling would not be a blessing as it should be if he wasn't, and he'd be damned if he ruined the best thing that was about to happen to him; he wouldn't allow it.

"I should go." Bucky groaned then, while he forced himself to his feet. "Thanks, you know, for being a decent human being."

"Will you come back again?"

"Maybe we should, maybe it would be better if it was with Dr. Banner."

"That's a splendid idea." Loki lifted his head with a nod. "Yes, that'll be better."

Bucky nodded too and took several shuffling steps towards the front entryway. He paused and turned around, before clearing his throat. Loki slowly stood himself, and felt the tension mount a little more.

"I meant what I said – thank you." Bucky frowned, almost looking sheepish. "You might want to check, uh, your bathtub. I think I might have thrown up in it."

The declaration took a moment or two to sink in. Loki blanched and watched wordlessly as Bucky made his grand escape. Distantly, he heard the door close while his lip curled in disgust. How in the world had he fallen in love with such a bloody, crass imbecile?

The answer went unanswered, but even if Bucky had potentially thrown up in his bathtub; he couldn't see his life without him, vomit and all.


	19. Chapter Eighteen :: Didn't Ask For This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of dialogue; I usually don't like to do that too frequently...

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**Chapter Eighteen :: Didn't Ask For This**

 

* * *

 

 

"I certainly didn't expect this." Dr. Banner said in mild surprise. "But this is an extraordinary step in the right direction. Acceptance is the key to a healthy relationship."

Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, although his current irritation had nothing to do with his body. His alpha was only inches away from him, which eased any and all symptoms of separation anxiety. So that itchy feeling at the back of his head was purely him and his infinite stubbornness.

"I hadn't expected that I would see you two this soon either."

"We've had a bit of a breakthrough, I suppose you could say." Loki looked proud.

"So you're taking credit for the job whiskey did?" Bucky snapped hotly, even though it didn't wipe away the smug look on Loki's upper-class face.

The events that unfolded recently had taken Bucky by surprise. Things had changed quicker than he ever expected them to, and his body was a lousy traitor. Had he stayed away from whiskey none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have gone to Loki and he wouldn't have made an absolute fool of himself.

He should have had more self-control than that. He should have taken more heat suppressants until he saw funny colors and animals spoke to him. But even that seemed like a useless attempt to ward off the inevitable for one day more. And he highly doubted he would have gotten any kind of high off of his illegally purchased prescription anyway.

"Alcohol can be a truth serum." Dr. Banner fiddled with his pen. "What happened if you don't mind me asking?"

What happened? That was definitely the question of the hour. Bucky had been stupid and impulsive and driven by instinct, which could have led to something more serious happening than what had. It was only by Loki's good sense that they had avoided something far worse.

"I'd been in a poor state, as you already know. So bad that my brother contacted James's best friend, who somehow convinced him to see me. Several hours afterwards, James returned to my home inebriated; and yes, Dr. Banner, alcohol certainly can be a truth serum."

"James would you like to elaborate?"

"I puked in his bathtub."

"Actually, you didn't." Loki grinned like a starving jackal. "You used the toilet like any proper person would."

"Rephrase – I'm going to puke in his bathtub."

"Could you elaborate about the overall situation, I mean?" Dr. Banner scratched something onto the notepad balanced on his knee, although there were the telltale signs of a smile on his lips.

In the very least, Bucky managed to inject some kind of humor into a humorless situation. He wasn't coping any better than before though; if anything things had only gotten progressively worse for him. Now he definitively knew that he needed Loki in his life; he needed a complete stranger to make him feel whole, and that didn't bode well with him still.

He'd always been self-reliant; he always knew the only person who he could count on was himself. And while it had been a lonely existence, it wasn't exactly unpleasant. He could live alone; he could be alone without any problem. Well, until recently anyway.

"I was drinking whiskey; I had a lot on my mind from our previous appointment." Bucky began carefully. "For whatever reason I wanted to confront him-"

"Who would that be?"

"Loki," he tried not to bristle in annoyance. "I wanted to confront Loki. So I went back to his apartment and things had gotten out of hand."

"He became very receptive towards me. But I defused the situation because I knew he would never forgive nor would I forgive myself, if I allowed it to progress the way I instinctually wanted it to."

"That's very rare for an alpha to reel in his emotions." Dr. Banner looked impressed. "Especially with the level of aggression you've been displaying over the course of the situation; so I'm pleasantly surprised by your self-control, Loki."

Even Bucky had to admit Loki's self-control had been impressive. He had been too drunk and horny to think straight. Every nerve-ending in his body had gone haywire like it never had before. It had been terrifying and exhilarating, and it would have been the worst decision to act on those feelings then.

"So has the medication helped any?"

"No, I wouldn't say so. The pills seem more like placebos." Loki shot Bucky a look. "Somewhere inside of me, I knew I couldn't take advantage of him. He's my mate, after all."

"Hasn't stopped every alpha from the beginning time, though,"

"I'm not every alpha, James. I'm your alpha, and I'm trying harder than you can ever imagine to be an alpha that you can rely on and trust."

"I know we've discussed this before, but what is your greatest fear about being mated? Is it the loss of independence?" Dr. Banner wrote something else across his notepad. "Which would, understandably, be a reason to be scared of such a colossal bond; one you never imagined you would experience on top of that."

There were a fleet of reasons that Bucky hadn't wanted to be bonded to anyone. They changed daily; sometimes they became ridiculous or very serious or a mixture of the two. He hated the continuous need to discuss them, though.

Therapy, he started to learn, seemed like a repeat of topics; an endless discussion on why he felt the way he did. He suspected it needed to be analyzed over and over again to find the right answer, but it didn't mean he had to like it. And he didn't have to like that he had to openly discuss this with Loki beside him.

Sadly, the will to fight this bond had dampened. Bucky knew he wasn't a broken omega without a mate anymore. His body was working the heat suppressants out of his system, despite shoveling them into his mouth religiously. It seemed his biology was far stronger than any pharmaceutical prescription could be.

"Loss of independence, sure," he rubbed his forehead. "The loss of a life I've built from scratch and other things too."

"Other things,"

"Listen, omegas aren't always treated right. Every time you flip on the news, you hear about some dumb, useless omega being killed by their alpha. There's a fetish out there, movies, where alphas take their omegas by force for the first time. It doesn't matter if they bleed or scream; the rougher it is the better.

"Obviously anyone with half a brain would be freaked out by it. I've seen that shit before; it's not pretty. And what is that omega going to do about it? Nothing; they're going to stay with their alpha because their instincts tell them to. It doesn't matter if they're an abusive piece of shit." Bucky scoffed.

The silence that followed was heavy. There was a boulder in Bucky's stomach, and he couldn't bear to look at either Dr. Banner or Loki; Loki most of all. Because it was a real fear of his; it had always been one, ever since he learned about the filthier things in life.

Violence against omegas was commonplace. Sure, alphas were killed every day too; but they usually were killed by fellow alphas. It was fairly rare for an alpha to be killed by their mate. It's not to say it hadn't happened before, but it wasn't an everyday occurrence like omega abuse.

"I would never hurt you that way." Loki said almost indignantly. "Not all alphas are mindless brutes."

"No one's denying the violence against omegas, James. The combination of pheromones and aggression can alter an alpha's mind quite a bit. But the violence is concentrated in a small group of individuals; some, undoubtedly, with psychopathic tendencies." Dr. Banner added in. "That's the sensationalized version of actual intimacy between mates. Real connections are forged not through instinct alone but mutual respect for one another as well."

"Easy for you to say,"

"While we're still waiting for your blood results, I think I can hypothesize about what we'll find out. I think you aren't beyond a heat cycle, James. But I also think you won't have the intensity of a normal one. Or at least the intensity of a first time one,"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a first time heat cycle has a tendency to be incredibly intense. It can last up to well over a week. However, I think the continual use of heat suppressants on your part will lessen the blow of yours whenever you have it. Meaning when you agree to wean off your medication," Dr. Banner explained. "That being said, I still do think you can go into heat. I do think your body's healthy enough to sustain one, but it's unlikely you'll experience an overblown one. Medically speaking, anyway,"

Loki visibly stiffened beside him, which finally encouraged Bucky to look at his supposed mate. Loki's expression was pinched, but more than anything else he looked disappointed. Quite frankly, Bucky didn't understand why a full-blown heat was anywhere near important as him coming to terms with their coupling. But something lurched inside of him all the same.

Something deeply embedded in him was almost ashamed by his obvious shortcoming. Even deeper still, he might have not wanted to disappoint Loki despite not liking him very much at all; which was a scary revelation within itself. Because he knew that things were progressing between them, whether he consented to them or not; his body was behind the wheel now.

No matter how much he fought it, protested with tooth and nail; his biology had already made the decision for him. Maybe it was slower than any average omega, but it was still doing the job it was built for. And his body did not want to upset Loki, as if it was directly affected by his disappointment.

"So in terms of bonding…?" Loki trailed away.

"Heat cycles and bonding are two separate things, although they do overlap." Dr. Banner glanced between them. "Knotting isn't the only way to bond, but that's not to say that you won't knot, Loki. The intimacy will still be there; in fact, you won't even recognize the lack of intensity since this will be the only time you'll experience it on a first-hand basis."

"But I'll know."

"Who said anything about me going into heat?" Bucky interjected and snuffed out his mangle of uncharacteristic emotions inside of him. "You know, this is my problem. Everyone talks about me like I'm not even here. I'm supposed to be a dutiful little omega, and go into heat for my alpha. And even if I do that, it's obvious he's not going to be happy with it."

"I never said I wouldn't be happy. I'd be ecstatic, actually."

"Save me the bullshit. You won't be happy because you want something entirely different. You want someone entirely different, and if I had the chance to; I'd give you that. I'd transfer this dumb connection onto someone else, and you two could live happily ever after. Unfortunately, I can't and we're stuck together whether either of us like it or not."

"My apologies for being disappointed that my expectations have been dashed. You aren't the only one who has feelings, James." Loki practically hissed.

Small tendrils of Loki's aggression seemed to permeate in the air, something that Bucky hadn't necessarily noticed before. It was possible that he had just ignored the signs. Or else their connection was becoming more solidified by their continual interaction.

Either way, he felt his old hostility awaken. Loki was gravely mistaken if he thought a drunken encounter was enough to changes things between them. Because it was more than apparent that Loki was still the same asshole he was from the very first time they met.

"What am I doing here?" Bucky asked no one in particular. "This is a huge waste of time. Not to mention this is beyond humiliating."

"James, let's discuss this rationally."

"I'm sick of talking; I'm sick of this whole stupid situation. Why am I even trying to make this work when I don't really want to? Why am I even surprised that this asshole is going to be disappointed with me one way or another? He acts like he's such a prize, when he's a bitter, nasty piece of work!"

"Always with the obscenities, James,"

"Shut the fuck up!" He snapped and turned in his chair to stare at Loki. "You think you're better than me. And maybe you are; maybe you have the money and the high society upbringing. But that doesn't make me trash! That doesn't me any less important than you! And if you're going to sit here and judge me every step of the way then maybe you need to get the fuck out of my life and stop chasing me around!

"I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask for you! So don't patronize me and don't act like you're so fucking high and mighty! If you want some dripping wet omega, then go find one! Because I'm never going to be that and I never want to be that!"

Dr. Banner looked ready to intercede, but Bucky wanted nothing to do with the conversation anymore. He leapt to his feet, consumed by too many emotions to discern. He knew he was angry, frustrated, and fed up. But even more prevalent than all those combined – he was hurt.

Yes, he had a variety of shortcomings; no one would say otherwise. He was an inadequate omega by every definition of the word. He never said he was anything else. And he shouldn't give a damn if Loki was disappointed by what Dr. Banner had said about his heat cycle. He shouldn't have given a second thought to it; yet it was gnawing away at the pit of his stomach now.

On shaky but determined legs, Bucky walked to the door of Dr. Banner's office, and wrenched it open. It felt like a familiar reaction to something that he didn't like. But he was too much of a coward to try and think of a better solution than storming out. It seemed like the only defense mechanism that he had left.

Playing his part of angry, damaged omega; he strode out of the room and into the abandoned hallway. Halfway down the hall, he was suddenly struck by a sense of sadness that burrowed its way into his bones.

Even with all his dramatics and his heartfelt confession, Loki wasn't following after him. His alpha didn't chase after him like he should have, and that was a greater sense of rejection that he didn't know actually existed. He didn't know he needed validation from Loki; he never needed it from anyone. But now he wanted it from his alpha and he wasn't getting it.

Letting out a hoarse laugh, Bucky shook his head and made his way into the lobby and headed out the double doors to the elevators. He wasn't going to go running back to Loki like some pushover would. He'd never do it for anyone, even if his body was screaming for him to do just that. Omega or not, he didn't need an alpha; he didn't need  _his_ alpha.


	20. Chapter Nineteen :: At Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the individuals who reviewed the previously chapter; it's nice to know people still enjoy the story.

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**Chapter Nineteen :: At Last**

 

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Loki moved deliberately slow and in-control. The employees of Dr. Banner's practice looked wide-eyed and curious, no doubt from Bucky's abrupt departure only minutes beforehand. Regardless of the anger he inevitably felt, Loki knew better than to create an even greater scene than what Bucky had already caused in his haste to get away.

Things hadn't gone according to plan. In fact, they had gone horribly wrong. He hadn't meant to upset Bucky, but he was also certain that his mate was floundering for any reason to keep them apart. Because now more than ever, it was impossible to deny the bond between them; they were meant to be.

As he moved down the hallway and into the lobby, Loki smiled tightly at the women (obvious omegas) clustered on the sleek furniture provided to them as they waited to be seen by Dr. Banner; before he stepped out into the rest of the building. He moved towards where the elevators were, only to pause when he saw Bucky next to them with a pained expression on his features.

His mate had his forehead pressed against the wall with both hands balled into fists. It was apparent that that their session with Dr. Banner was still affecting him; although Loki had suspected he would already be searching for the closest subway station by now. Unless, dare he even think, Bucky wanted to see him instead of flee like his first intentions were.

Cautiously, Loki stopped several feet away and cleared his throat. He didn't want to alarm Bucky; then again, he might already be at the point where he could sense his presence without any problem at all. But it would be a while yet before he knew for certain.

Bucky lifted his head and smiled bitterly at him. He supposed it was better than lashing out at him like he'd done so in Dr. Banner's office. Or maybe it was worse than that; the pain radiating off of Bucky was incredibly powerful and palpable from where Loki stood.

"This can't keep happening, James." Loki began and pressed the down button. "I understand this isn't what either of us expected to happen. But it is happening and we need to come to sort of resolution; I will not continue to put up with how you're reacting."

"Are you giving me an ultimatum?" Bucky asked softly, but evidently too tired to put up much of a fight.

"Not an ultimatum per se, but I mean what I'm saying. I love you, but this will not work unless you make a concerted effort to make it work. Then again, I suppose that's what you want. You don't want it to work."

"I've already told you-"

"And I understand." Loki said firmly. "This is new and terrifying; you're having a hard time accepting what we could inevitably have. But if you believe I'm going to stomp through your life and take away any of your independence then you are being ridiculous."

Truth be told, Bucky wasn't being that ridiculous. In Loki's more alpha-like moods, he wanted nothing more than to lock his mate away. He'd be damned if he allowed Bucky to continue living in that shoebox in Brooklyn; no less to work with riff-raff that were covered in tattoos just like he was.

In retrospect, as he was a little more clearheaded than before, Loki knew how detrimental his possessiveness was. Bucky would like him even less if he tried to bar him away in his Manhattan penthouse.  So he needed to make some sort of compromise if he ever hoped for this to work.

"So you'll be fine with me living in Brooklyn and working still?" Bucky shot back with a curl of his lip. "Something tells me otherwise."

"We aren't even to that point. We have a long way to go; even longer if you continue to storm off like a child,"

"You say understand, but you really don't."

"I do understand in my own way. But you also need to understand my point of view as well. I've searched high and low for my mate; I've gone from one country to the next, desperate to find you. And now you're here, but you also aren't what I expected. Like I'm certainly not what you expected."

"Understatement," Bucky sighed just as the doors to the elevator glided open.

They exchanged a look, before Loki moved into the lift. Bucky followed begrudgingly so moments later. No one else forced their way into the compartment, which Loki was grateful for. He wasn't exactly in a good mood; he could even feel a headache starting to build in his temples.

There had to be some way to resolve his differences with Bucky. Dr. Banner had been very specific about boundaries and patience, and he had tried to keep every toe in line. He had tried to be understanding towards the plight Bucky was going through, but his own mental health was at stake. And he honestly didn't know if he could continue this charade for much longer.

Maybe the idea of preference over biology wasn't such a horrible idea, after all. Because Bucky was making it clear that he wasn't interested in a deep bond; or at least, he was making it very difficult for them to progress accordingly. And there was only so much psychological strain he could take before he hit his tipping point; he was coming dangerously close to that point already.

The elevator jumped underfoot and then started to descend. Loki spied Bucky from his peripheral and the way he curled into himself protectively. His arms were tightly wound around his body, as if he was trying to keep himself from falling apart at the seams.

It hurt to look at; it hurt to know that Loki was the problem. Instead of being the solution to their combined loneliness and distress, he was the cause of it. Because some idiotic batch of women decided drugging a prepubescent child was better than trying to solve the situation like sane human beings should.

"I'll try harder." Bucky almost whispered. "I'll try not to be scared anymore."

"James,"

"I don't want to hurt anybody. I'm not trying to; I'm trying to protect myself. I don't know how else to describe it. It's the only way I know how; I mean I've never been in this situation before. I never had to deal with pheromones and bonds and heats; I never had to worry about what would happen because I figured I didn't have a mate. And now everything's changed, and I don't know what to do."

"Do what's natural." Loki turned his body to face his mate. "Your body's telling you what to do, so let it lead you. Don't be afraid to listen to it."

Bucky's eyes flicked up and there was genuine terror there. For the first time since they found one another, Loki finally understood the extent of Bucky's fear. Even with his barbed and hateful words, Bucky was only trying to protect himself and he was using the only method he had at his disposal.

It didn't make it right, though. Both of them were probably in agreement when it came to that, but Loki understood a little better. And now, well they needed to find a resolution; lest they fall apart and Loki was forced to find companionship elsewhere. Not of his choosing, of course; out of necessity, really.

"I don't know what its trying to tell me. It's like there some kind of faulty wiring in my head, and it's shooting off two separate messages."

"I think a lot of that has to do with those heat suppressants."

"Maybe,"

"More than likely," Loki reached out cautiously and touched Bucky's shoulder, and felt an immediate wave of satisfaction buzz down his spine. "I think it would be beneficial to take a little less; not completely stop, but it might help. And well, there will still be a barrier of protection for you still. The medication will do its job, despite the decrease of your dosage.  It might not feel that way, but it should keep any impending heat, no matter how weak, at bay for now."

Bucky opened his mouth, seemingly on the verge of objecting. However, he seemed to think better of it and close his mouth with a wary look. For a few moments, they looked at one another until the elevator hopped to a stop.

Loki peered up at the numbers above the door, and noticed they stopped at the fourth floor. Soon the door glided open to admit a woman with a baby carriage. She smelled sweetly of omega; a dewy scent that prickled at Loki's nerve-endings. He liked the scent, despite her not being his mate; but that didn't stop him from crowding Bucky any to make room for her in the compartment.

His arms automatically wrapped around Bucky, and drew him protectively into him. Bucky didn't try to fight him off either; from what he could gather from the shift in position, Bucky was eyeing the other omega inquisitively.

The woman only offered them a smile, before her attention shifted to the baby carriage and the infant inside. Her voice was soft and supple, and radiating with happiness. Loki had always assumed that that he would have a mate like her; they would have beautiful children born from a strong connection, and be ecstatically happy with one another.

It had been a fanciful dream; every single fantasy about his mate had been absurd in retrospect. One day it would be a soft and innocent woman, the next a strong but clear-eyed man; his visions had always changed, but they hadn't evolved into anywhere near who Bucky happened to be.

Nothing had prepared him for this. His only solace while terribly alone was his overzealous imagination of some great romance; which was precisely why things weren't going so well in terms of his situation with Bucky. He couldn't be upset by heat cycles; he couldn't compare their bond to anyone else's.  He had to accept the cards he'd been dealt.

The rest of the elevator ride was in silence, beyond the coos and sweet sing-song tone of the woman's voice to her infant. Bucky shifted a little in his hold, but he didn't push Loki away or say anything snarky either. It was a small victory; Loki would take it.

Having Bucky in his arms, no matter how brief, proved to be the antidote to many of Loki's angry thoughts. He felt at peace and for that moment, he could forget some of the nasty things they had said to one another in anger, and the constant struggle that plagued them.

But he knew, once the elevator finally came to a halt that he would have to let go and handle the problem head-on. There were only two options at this point; one being to continue to relentlessly hound Bucky through Dr. Banner, and the other being to give up and try with someone else. The latter was unappealing, but it might very well be for the best all the same.

The door slid open again and the sweet smelling woman and her child disembarked. It took a bit longer for Loki to finally unwind his arms from around Bucky, and step away from the warmth that emitted off of him like a fire. It was harder to do than his body made it seem, though.

Bucky was the first to step out of the compartment, but in short and shuffled steps. Loki followed and stared into the mild traffic in the lobby of the building. People were walking unrushed towards the elevators or intently staring at the directory at the entranceway. Everyone seemed at ease, far from what he currently felt.

"I'll do it." Bucky mumbled, although he wouldn't look at Loki; his feet must have been awfully interesting to him at the moment, since that's where his eyes stayed.

"You'll do what?"

"Weaning off the heat suppressants; I'll do it."

"You will?" Loki blinked and didn't believe he heard properly, especially with what had unfolded in Dr. Banner's office no less than half an hour ago.

Bucky lifted his gaze and nodded. His expression was still pinched and sadder than Loki had ever seen it. It shot an ache directly through his heart; he hated that he was the cause of it. He knew he had put Bucky in between a rock and a hard place, even though that was never his intention.

"I hate feeling the way I do. I'm rundown; I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired because my mind keeps sending me the wrong information. One minute I'm angry, the next I want this. When you didn't come after me when I stormed out, it hurt. And I don't have a right to feel that way; I've been an asshole, but I'm so scared. You know that already, though." Bucky laughed humorlessly.

"James, listen to me," Loki took him by the arm and pulled him to an empty part of the lobby that wouldn't be a hot spot for foot traffic. "We will make this work if you want it to. I'll curb my irrationality as much as I can. But I need to see you and touch you on a regular basis. I need you and you need me, and it's ridiculous to be apart for long stretches of time."

"I know; I get it."

"This is not a punishment, my love. This is an opportunity of a lifetime; please, do not push me away anymore. Please, I beg of you. I cannot handle this anymore; if you do it again, I cannot guarantee I'll be there for the next rejection. Unless that's what you want,"

"That's," Bucky shook his head. "No, I don't want that. I'll be better; I'll try, I'll really try."

The coil of unhappiness inside of Loki slowly began to uncurl itself. His heart leapt in his chest and he felt his lips perk into a grin. He could practically feel Bucky's sincerity, and although he knew there would be hardships along the way; he felt like this was finally the step that would lead them to some kind of resolution.

This was it; this was the moment he dreamt of since he learned of Bucky's hostilities towards being bonded with him. Filled with more love than he could possibly contain, Loki wrapped his arms around Bucky again and pulled him flush against him.

"I'll do everything in my power to make you happy. Whatever I have to do, I will. James, you will not regret this; not a single day. I promise you."

"Be patient with me, okay."

"I will; I swear to you that I will." Loki let out a joyful little laugh, and kissed the top of Bucky's head.

Bucky didn't contradict him; he didn't pull away either. Almost reluctantly though, Loki felt his mate's arms wind themselves around him. He felt delirious with the sensation, and he swore to whatever deity was out there that he would do everything in his power to make this relationship work. He knew they both would at last.


	21. Chapter Twenty :: Coming To Terms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this sitting (finished) in my file for a week or so. I totally forgot to post it, oops.

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**Chapter Twenty :: Coming To Terms**

 

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To someone without a keen nose, Bucky smelled like nothing at all. The particularity of this attribute didn't go unnoticed by the majority of people either. They eyed him curiously and murmured behind their hands when they thought he wasn't with ear shot.

The curiosity and the scrutiny followed him like a specter. He knew of his peculiarity; he had always known he was different, and with Dr. Banner's initial analysis he had suspected there wouldn't be any reversal of the damage he'd suffer from continual abuse of heat suppressants throughout most of his life. Quite frankly, he had hoped for it to be irreversible.

Unfortunately, that hadn't ended up being the case. He had formed a bond with the man who was his alpha, and his emotions had been completely befuddled ever since. Not only that, but he had agreed to give their bond a try which meant in no uncertain terms that he was no longer able to take the heat suppressants he relied so heavily on.

The day after Bucky committed to try and pursue some kind of relationship with Loki, he had thrown out the bottle of pills that he always carried on his person. He dumped the ten or twelve tablet into the toilet and flushed them. But he hadn't gotten the courage to dispose of his entire inventory of yet.

It was too early to fully, unequivocally commitment to the changes that were about to transpire in his life. Bucky took the initial step and had taken several more in the right direction. Which was why he was currently standing in the lavish apartment that Loki called home; he was also stone cold sober on top of that too.

He stood awkwardly at the picture window that looked out onto Central Park and beyond to the Manhattan skyline with Loki at his back. Loki's nose was buried in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply every few moments like a kid sniffing a permanent marker looking to get an easy high.

Loki had a keener nose than most; he had smelled Bucky right away, even if the scent was faint and ever since that discovery, he'd been attached to his neck. Bucky hadn't shied away from the attention, although it was uncomfortable to say the least.

"The possibility that you could break into a heat someday is my dream." Loki inhaled loudly again and let out a groan of ecstasy that Bucky did not share in.

Dr. Banner did believe it possible for Bucky to have a heat, but never to the intensity of other omegas. Loki must have forgotten his former disappointment over the matter, though. Maybe the faint hint of pheromones was enough to awaken his internal ferocity, and all but forget sane thought. Either way it was better than arguing with one another as they were prone to do.

"Eventually you'll smell even stronger."

"I don't know about that." Bucky finally spoke after being mostly silent since arriving at Loki's door. "Dr. Banner said-"

"Dr. Banner said quite a bit. He thought you wouldn't be able to feel a connection with me, also. But here we are you and me."

"You shouldn't get your hopes up so much, though."

"James, I was acting childishly the last time we saw one another. I'll be happy with whatever I can get from you. And I'm ecstatic with your willingness to stop taking those vile heat suppressants." Loki dragged his nose from his neck to right behind his ear. "I'm happy with you; all of you."

The movement and the husky tone of Loki's voice made Bucky shudder a little. It was impossible to deny the connection between them now. Bucky was thrilled to be in close proximity with Loki; his recently haughty attitude would always lessen if they were given the opportunity to touch.

However, that didn't make the transition any easier on him. He still harbored some hostility and the fear that his life would ultimately change for the worse. It seemed unlikely that he would be able to carry on with his business if he was forced to live in Manhattan. And his independence was at stake as well.

None of that boded very well with him. But he had made a promise to give this a try, and he could only hope that Loki would compromise with him when the time came around. Otherwise, Bucky knew he couldn't be happy if he was locked away and kept like some fairytale princess in a tower.

"My mind's running away with me." Loki murmured in the same tone of voice. "All I can think of is you spread out in front of me, willing and compliant and hungry for me. And this smell is so powerful that it could practically knock me off my feet."

Bucky bit down onto his bottom lip, and tried to focus his attention outward onto the city. It was hard to tell if that sentiment had any appeal to him or not. He was conflicted, although he mostly found the thought terribly embarrassing and unsavory.

He had seen pornography when omegas had gone to heat. They were graphic, almost too graphic especially on the first cycle. That's where the money shot was, when an omega was overtaken by the throws of their nature, and they were suddenly doubling over in pleasure-pain and covered in a sheen of sweat and slick.

It was all very obscene, and Bucky didn't want to think of himself bleating like an animal in search of release. He definitely never felt that level of passion before, even with his former trysts along the way. So he really hoped that if he did manage a heat that that it would be very weak, and not to the point where he drenched the bed sheets in excitement.

Loki, obviously, was of a different opinion. His connection towards him was far more powerful at this point, and alphas didn't have to put up with the embarrassment of uncontrollable lubricant leaking out of an intimate orifice. Sure they had a knot, but it wouldn't actually swell until they were inside their partner.

"Don't get carried away. We don't even know how strong, if any, a heat I can have. I've only gotten off my prescription. This could be the extent of it, you know." Bucky turned his head slightly and almost blushed by the glassy-eyed look Loki was giving him.

Several contradictory emotions crossed through Bucky; fear and excitement being the foremost. Being with an aggressive alpha was just asking for trouble, particularly when said alpha had been suppressed for so many years and now was getting the smallest whiff of omega pheromones.

"There wouldn't be any harm in letting me touch you." Loki kissed behind his ear, seemingly swept away by his instincts.

Bucky figured he'd be put into this position sooner than later. It was an inevitability, really; he hadn't expected it to be so quick, though. He hadn't imagined a tiny whiff of pheromones would send Loki over the edge. Then again, he should have known that it would.

Loki had come at him full-steam ahead. He'd been fervent and demanding, and he wouldn't leave him alone until they came to some kind of resolution. So why wouldn't he react just as strongly to the slightest shift in Bucky's biology?

"What kind of touching are you talking about? Because you're already touching me,"

"James, please." Loki crooned as his hands squeezed his hips. "Just a little; I can control myself, I promise."

While he appreciated being asked, Bucky wasn't entirely convinced to allow things to progress any further. He wasn't sure that further contact would curb the hunger in Loki's eyes or only increase it, and he wasn't certain if he wanted to test those waters just yet.

He knew Loki couldn't become a frenzied mess unless he could smell an oncoming heat. However, that didn't exactly sway him into exploring any possible intimacy between them. They had barely kissed, let alone explored one another's bodies to find out one another's sensitive spots and what would drive the other crazy.

"Let me ask again – what kind of touching?" Bucky withdrew from Loki's steady attention and hands, and turned to get a better look of him that wasn't reflected back at him via the window.

Loki looked feral and hungry. He was the epitome of an alpha in that moment; tall, dark, and dominating. He could easily overpower Bucky and take what he wanted. It would have been all too easy. It was technically within his right to do as much too.

"I don't know; I haven't really thought it over thoroughly. I just want to touch you more intimately."

"I thought we were going to go slow. Wasn't that a part of the deal?"

"I'm not going to force you into anything, James." Loki's mouth contorted unhappily. "If you're uncomfortable then I obviously won't push the matter any longer."

"But you'll be angry."

"I will not; stop projecting onto me."

"I can already tell you're angry."

"Then you're horrible with reading people. I'm frustrated, but I'll undoubtedly survive somehow."

"I don't want to make this any more complicated than it already is, okay." Bucky sighed, before scratching at the spot behind his ear where Loki had kissed him. "I'm trying to figure this out one day at a time."

Loki smiled sardonically at him. Both of them were trying hard not to fly off the handle. Their personalities still collided, and they did have arguments about petty things still. But they were both trying to remain levelheaded. It was a challenge, though. Every day was addled with hardship for them.

Every interaction, every meeting was stressful. Bucky had to keep himself in check a lot of the times, or else he would let all of hostility show and in an ugly fashion too. He just hoped that this part of their relationship would be resolved one way or another.

"You're not the only one." Loki let out a weary sigh, before he retreated away from Bucky.

Of course, Loki would be annoyed and dejected. Whether he admitted to it or not was irrelevant since Bucky already knew it. Anything to do with him always brought out the ugly in Loki and vice-versa.

"For Christ's sake, I'm trying. Maybe that's enough for you, but I'm putting myself out there and it's still not enough for you. I get why you're so eager; you've gone all this time without a mate, and now you want to run headfirst into everything. But you have to give me some time; I'm at a different place than you."

"I didn't say you weren't trying."

"No, but you're pissed because I won't take things to the next level with you."

"I never said that." Loki snapped and whirled around to face him. "I never said any of that! I know you're trying! I also know this isn't easy on you, so stop projecting onto me what you're thinking because it isn't true!"

The expression on Loki's face was enough to quiet any argument that Bucky might have had. No matter how fearless he appeared, he wasn't up to the task to combat an angry alpha. It wasn't to say that he couldn't hold his own in a fight, but he might eventually have the instinct to roll over and surrender before he actually got the upper-hand.

On top of that, Bucky didn't see a reason to antagonize Loki any more than he already had. What was there to gain by doing that beyond winning an argument? Ultimately, it would only make Bucky's life harder on him and he needed to break out of that vicious cycle at last.

"Listen," Bucky began reluctantly. "I don't want to be combative all the time with you. It's my natural instinct even if it shouldn't be."

"I know. I'm trying to be mindful of that, but I have a tendency to lose myself when I'm with you. I hope I can be forgiven." Loki sighed, before he offered him his hand, and the frightening thing was that Bucky didn't have a moment of hesitation. He took Loki's hand in his without a second thought about it.

Loki pulled Bucky towards him, and soon they were locked in an embrace with one another. A sense of security washed over Bucky that he never really felt before. It was terrifying, but there was a side of him that was excited by it too. He belonged to someone and someone belonged to him at last.

"There won't be any further touching without your consent, James. I give you my word." Loki hugged him as if he was made of glass. "I'll keep my instincts in check, whether you smell very lightly of pheromones or even if you smell like you are experiencing a full-blown heat."

"Stupidly, I kind of believe you."

"You're insufferable sometimes; most of the time, really. But I mean it all the same."

"Yeah, I know." Bucky shut his eyes, and allowed himself the opportunity to breathe in Loki.

"You belong to me now and always, and I wouldn't have you any other way."

"Now that's a revelation." He murmured. "But me too,"


	22. Chapter Twenty-one :: Monaco, Perhaps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter's already written but I'm pacing myself in terms of updating.

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**Chapter Twenty-one :: Monaco, Perhaps**

 

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"When will we formally meet your better half, Loki?" Fandral asked over his champagne flute, looking for all intents and purposes like the snob that he truly was.

The event was entirely too posh not be loathed. White, finely embroidered tablecloths covered the tables and small portioned French cuisine sat in front of each party guest. There was a string quartet in the corner, and the murmur of high-browed gossip was on the tip of everyone's tongue.

Loki usually thrived in such a pretentious environment. Tonight, however, his mind had wandered away from the proceedings and landed elsewhere. More specifically, his thoughts landed to where Fandral had finally taken the conversation to everyone's, seemingly, relief.

News had traveled rather quickly about how he had found his mate. His absence at work couldn't be explained away, and Fandral was more than happy to spread the joyous news around; although he was kind enough to keep the ugly details to himself. But now that there had been some progress in terms of his interactions with Bucky, Fandral now felt secure enough in broaching the topic, no less in public.

"Honestly, Fandral. Do you have any couth?" Loki scowled, even in the presence of the likes of the Maximoff twins who had been rumored to be one another's mates it was inappropriate. But nothing was concrete and the scandal of siblings, no less twins being coupled was both horrific and titillating to anyone who heard the rumors.

"Most people would be over the moon."

"I'm not like most people."

"At least someone spoke the truth finally." Fandral chuckled, while raising his glass in a sign of respect; although Loki was convinced it was more in mockery.

He supposed he couldn't be too annoyed by Fandral's curiosity, though. The man had had several drinks, and well his intentions were good enough. What was really bothering Loki was being away from Bucky. But he also knew that they couldn't be attached at the hip all the time at this point either.

Dr. Banner insisted that they should take things one day at a time. Jumping head-first into things wouldn't do them any favors, specifically when there were so many unresolved issues on Bucky's part with their bond in general. But at least they had made some decent progress, and Loki took some kind of pride in that. He especially took pride in his self-restraint of late.

"You must bring your mate to the Hamptons this summer." Wanda Maximoff chimed in with her fork poised over her plate, even though she hadn't taken a bite yet. "Pietro and I renovated our family home; we would love to host you."

"Yes, you must come." Pietro added in, although he sounded mostly bored.

Loki smiled in reply, before he reached for his own champagne flute and took a drink. Something told him that Bucky wouldn't be too receptive to being dragged out to the Hamptons to spend a weekend with the possibly incestuous Maximoff twins. Then again, he might have a sick fascination with trying to unravel the truth behind their relationship.

"Firstly, we would have to have a party to introduce him to everyone."

"He isn't being introduced into society, Fandral. He isn't a sixteen year old girl in a Jane Austen story." Sif interjected just in time; she had gone to the ladies room and had only just returned. "So kindly shut up and leave Loki alone."

Gratefulness flooded Loki at his best friend's attempt to wrangle in her mate. Sif was clearly the one in charge in the relationship, and she had honed her ability to keep Fandral in line since they grew up bonded from a very early and unusual age. So it wasn't very surprising that Fandral did quiet down, much to the Maximoff twins amusement.

While Loki appreciated Fandral's silence, he didn't bask in it. His mind continued to travel elsewhere, particularly to the message he had sent Bucky half an hour earlier. They had been in constant contact for most of the day, but with the needy message he sent about wanting a picture; well, the contact had dried up.

The request for a photo hadn't been meant to be vulgar. He had only wanted to see Bucky at the current moment. He did have various photos already saved on his phone, but Loki was greedy and he wanted more. He always wanted more, and he supposed that was what was inherently wrong with their relationship still.

"I bet you're antsy to return to work." Sif brought him out of his thoughts. "You've never taken this much time off. Well, besides your impromptu tour around the world."

"I have plenty of things to keep me busy. Leisurely reading being one of them,"

"How dull," Pietro waved his hand dismissively. "You should come to Monaco for the Grand Prix."

"That you should do; Pietro will be racing. He's very good." Wanda added in, which was usually how it went whenever one twin spoke. Loki thought that it was bloody annoying. Or maybe it was just his souring mood since he had yet to hear from Bucky.

"I'll certainly take that into account. Of course, only when my personal affairs are in order."

"And once we've formally met your mate as well." Fandral spoke once more, much to Loki's mounting chagrin.

In any other case, Loki would have been happy to introduce Bucky to his friends. He had always assumed his mate would be someone like him in terms of financial and intellectual standing. It was not to say that he thought Bucky was stupid, in fact that was far from what he thought. But he also wasn't privileged by any means.

He knew his friends and acquaintances would look down their noses at Bucky. Because he had also done the same thing when he first realized who and what Bucky was. He was guilty of such a snobbish offense and he knew his inner circle would be no different in that respect. The only difference was that they would be far more vicious in comparison.

Bucky was covered in tattoos. He spoke in that obnoxious Brooklyn bleat. And his palate was most definitely not sophisticated. Loki suspected if he was faced with any kind of small portion of gourmet food, he might have a fit. For Christ's sake, Bucky ate hot dogs from street vendors and enjoyed them on top of that. So any five restaurant probably wouldn't impress him at all.

Before Loki could formulate a witty response to Fandral's continued hints of meeting Bucky, he felt his cellphone buzz in his pocket. His eyes widened, and despite how desperately he probably looked; Loki still eagerly reached into his trousers to unearth his phone and read the touch screen.

Scrawled across the screen was a notification of a message from Bucky. And much to Loki's delight, there was a mention of an attachment. He quickly unlocked the screen after tapping in his passkey, and it brought up the screen with their previous conversation in it.

Without truly looking at the thought bubble with the photo in it, Loki enlarged it and felt the air quickly leave his body. Bucky had obliged and sent him a picture. It wasn't anything filthy, but it certainly wasn't wholesome either. It was a nice meeting of the two, actually.

Bucky had taken a picture of himself shirtless, which displayed the true extent of his body art. His jeans sat low on his hips to expose the band of his Calvin Klein underwear, and two stylized and brightly colored sparrows on each hip. Both his arms were colorfully tattooed entirely in the same style as the sparrows on his hips. But most importantly, Bucky was giving the camera a smoldering look that threatened to undo Loki all at once and right in the middle of a very nice restaurant.

The hunger that was always at the forefront of Loki's mind came on him at full-force. He wanted nothing more than to leave this dull dinner, and drive all the way to Bucky and take him like he never had the opportunity to do before.

_'This what you were looking for?'_

Loki exited out of the photo and read the accompanying message. He quickly composed his own, although he flubbed with the keypad several times in order to get his message out faster than his fingers could bring it to life.

_'I'm at a very respectable dinner with respectable people. I rather not be aroused now.'_

"Providence in the fall is beautiful." Sif was in the middle of saying, as Loki finally tuned back into his surroundings.

He was fortunate that the conversation hadn't lulled by his enthusiasm to reach his phone. He supposed he had to thank Sif for that, though. If it probably hadn't been for her, Loki suspected that Fandral would have hounded him to find out why he had practically ripped his phone out of his pocket for.

_'I didn't send you a naked picture. Calm it, buddy.'_

The message came through less than a minute after Loki's. But it did little to ease his nerves any, especially since the photo was more than explicit enough. Loki hadn't seen Bucky in any state of undress before, so how else could he react any differently?

He had spent too many sleepless nights envisioning what Bucky would look in any state of undress. He imagined a hard body with sparse body hair in just the right spots. And like his fantasies entailed, Bucky was made up of lean muscle and the perfect amount of body hair. His tattoos were even sexy.

_'You might as well. How can I focus on the present when you are entirely on my mind?'_

_'Self-restraint,'_

_'Impossible; I want you. I miss you.'_ Loki wrote back, before he could second guess himself.

When the message had been sent, he laid his phone face-down onto his thigh, and he tried to focus on the conversation once more. Wanda was in mid-story about something that the horrible Parker child had been up to. But that hardly retained Loki's attention any.

His body was revolting at the moment. Every part of him wanted to be in close contact with his omega. He wanted to kiss Bucky breathless, to bury his nose in the crook his neck, and push his hands underneath his Calvin Klein's and-

His phone vibrated against his leg. Loki bit his bottom lip, and managed to calmly reach for it without losing his mind completely. He unlocked his phone, and read the newest message with every muscle tensed.

_'Could come over; take me like an hour.'_

_'God, yes; I'm leaving now.'_ Loki typed out, before he hurriedly clicked on the send button.

His hands were trembling from the excitement of knowing he would be close to Bucky again. But even more than that, he felt a mounting excitement because Bucky was the one who suggested it instead of him. And that was another sign that they were progressing in the right direction, especially with the way they first met.

With as much self-control that he could muster, Loki pocketed his phone and stood from his seat. Unsurprisingly, every eye at the table had turned to him in curiosity. Sif not so much, however; she knew him all too well already.

"Apologies, but I have to be on my way." He articulated without any quiver to his voice.

"So soon," Wanda frowned, although she didn't really look put-out by his early departure.

"Yes, well duty calls. But we must get together some other time. Monaco, perhaps,"

"Yes, Monaco," Pietro snapped his fingers and pointed to him with some sense of enthusiasm at last. "You will be our guest, also your mate too. Very good,"

Before he could be pulled into an endless cycle of invitations to exotic locales, Loki leaned over to kiss the side of Sif's head and thanked her for her hospitality. He told everyone else goodbye, and hurried away from the table; although, he heard Fandral clear as a bell as he wound his way through in between the tables and towards the exit.

"I suppose he's ready to consummate the relationship at long last! Good for him!"


	23. Chapter Twenty-two :: Domesticity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually liked how this chapter turned out.

* * *

 

**Chapter Twenty-two :: Domesticity**

 

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Crazy people evidently had a tendency to go underground. Bucky had been familiar with the antics that took place on the subway, but it was always a marvel to witness it in person; no less the pungent smell of urine, body odor, and the occasional whiff of either alcohol or pot that enveloped the cars. Unsurprisingly, this was his least favorite means of transportation; least favorite but also the most inexpensive.

Bucky didn't have much in terms of expendable income. Once in a while, he could toss around money for a cab into the city. But more often than not, the subway was the best mode of transportation that he had at his disposal.

So long as you kept to yourself, diverted your eyes when some mentally ill person went on a prophetic tirade then you were okay. You also had to make sure to check the seats, in order to avoid any spit, vomit, or much worse that might have been left behind in someone's wake. Because well people were animals; Bucky had seen too many wild things while riding the subway than he had in any other place else.

Tonight, however, happened to be fairly mild in comparison how it usually was. He had witnessed a loud argument between two infuriated mates, but otherwise there wasn't much in terms of entertainment. The smell though, that was something that never seemed to go away. And when the train slowed to a halt, Bucky practically tripped over himself to try and get away from the pungency of too many people in too close quarters.

Then again a whiff of city pollution really wasn't any better. But the claustrophobia eased when Bucky climbed the stairway out onto the street. It was a Thursday night, and the city was busy as it always was. Bucky was swept into the commotion, and he headed to his destination with a sense of anticipation.

Over the past several days, there had been a sense of urgency to be within close proximity to Loki. The bond between them was undoubtedly becoming stronger. Dr. Banner seemed relieved that they were trying to get along better, and he also appeared happy by the progress they had made of late.

They still had a long way to go, but Bucky had officially dropped any sort of hostility that he had been feebly holding onto towards Loki. He knew it was a pointless endeavor, and he was usually far happier if he was with Loki anyway. So he just stopped trying to fight his instincts.

Sure, he still had ongoing concerns about how things would ultimately play out. Not even his instincts could eliminate those. He had very real concerns about his professional life, and he knew that he would have to have a conversation with Loki about it soon enough. But for now, he tried to focus on them instead of the outside world.

Dr. Banner had been emphatic about that point. The outside world was obviously important, but in the early stages of bonding; it was a secondary concern. That's why mates were frequently barred into privacy with one another; so they could focus on the connection rather than the reaction from other people to their connection.

Admittedly, Bucky was beginning to understand things a little more now. He wasn't as blind as he had been, and that eased some of the fear that he'd been harboring from the beginning. He, in the very least, allowed himself to feel without the combating dialogue in his head taking the lead.

The commute from the subway stop to Loki's apartment building was fairly long. Despite knowing the route by heart by now, Bucky found himself itching to make it to his destination already. Even when he saw the building ahead of him, he felt like he'd never make it there in time to save his sanity.

This was a normal thought nowadays, though. He resigned himself to the anticipatory excitement he felt when he thought of Loki. And he was even beginning to embrace the bodily sensations that overtook him when the distance was far too much for his liking.

Tonight had been difficult. Loki had had pre-arranged plans with his friends, and both of them had agreed that it was better if Bucky kept under the radar. They were still figuring out the ins and outs of their relationship, and the complexity of outside sources wouldn't do them any good. Besides, Bucky really didn't want to spend an evening with a bunch of snotty rich people anyway.

Within the comings months, it would probably be inevitable that Bucky would have to acquaint himself with Loki's world. But for now, he would pass on any and all invitations to sit in a suffocating suit and play nice over fancy food, and the drone of stocks and bonds and croquet games out in the Hamptons.

Honestly, he didn't know how accurate that assessment was of high society. Something told him it wasn't really that far from the truth, though. What else did rich people have to talk about anyway?

The building drew closer and closer, and by the time Bucky was about twenty feet away; he couldn't keep his cool any longer. With a burst of nervous energy, his footfall grew quicker and within moments he was running down the busy street. He weaved in between people, who both cursed and flipped him off; but he really didn't pay them any attention.

Single-mindedly, Bucky ran until he was within clear-shot of the building. He came to a halt and panted a bit, while pushing a hand through his hair that was undoubtedly sticking up on end; before he approached the entrance. The doorman, an older man named Buzz, spotted him and quickly opened the door to permit him inside the lobby.

"Good evening, Mr. Barnes. Mr. Odinson only just arrived." Buzz greeted him.

"Thanks, man. Have a good night." He smiled, while stepping over the threshold and into the posh lobby.

Like the many times he'd been in there before, the lobby was mostly abandoned. The people that were mulling around paid him little attention, and he in turn did the same. He headed directly to the elevator banks, and pressed the up button which immediately caused the elevator doors to glide open.

Bucky slipped into the lift and pressed the button to Loki's floor. Soon the lift was ascending and thankfully it didn't stop for any reason. He really wasn't sure if he could handle a delay at the moment; his body was prickling unhappily, and the only way to remedy the unease was to be with Loki as soon as possible.

Biting onto his bottom lip, Bucky watched the numbers tick upward with each passing floor until it hit number twenty-six. That's when the tendrils of Loki's spicy alpha scent hit him full-force. It was only a faint odor in the lobby, but now it was enough to suffocate Bucky and make him dizzy with yearning.

The elevator lurched underneath his feet as it came to a stop, before the doors opened to reveal the hallway. Bucky shot out of the compartment, and ran noisily to where the smell originated from. His fist made it to his destination first, and he rapped hard on the door like an over-excited child; which he supposed wasn't too far from the truth.

It was instinct; it was natural. Most partners had a tendency to feel a level of anxiety and unrest when they were parted for too long. Sure, it got better with time but Bucky hadn't the luxury of time. And he was also only discovering the extent of his instincts on top of that.

Several moments passed, before the door finally opened to reveal Loki. Loki was dressed in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and black trousers that were obviously a companion piece to a suit. His face was practically beaming when he looked at Bucky, as if he was somehow both the sun and the moon and every star in between.

"Took you long enough," Loki said in means of greeting, and stepped aside to permit him entry into the apartment.

"You know I live in Brooklyn, right?" Bucky rolled his eyes, while he walked inside. "I also don't have my own car. I have to use the subway. You might have heard of it. Big train underground, filled with the biggest lunatics on the face of the planet."

Loki shut the door behind him, before he followed him closely into the expansion of the apartment's interior. This was typically the protocol; Loki respected him enough not to touch him right away, but he also had to be within close proximity anyway. So he almost always hovered behind him like a needy shadow.

"I know what the tube is."

"So fancy,"

"The subway," Loki corrected himself. "May I…?"

Turning around, Bucky couldn't help but smirk. The truth of the matter was that he was truly the one in control. Loki needed to play by his rules if he wanted this to work. And while he never intentionally took advantage of it; he couldn't help but feel a little cocky by their positions in this relationship.

"Let me take my jacket off first." He said, already halfway in the middle of shrugging off his jacket; the same jacket that brought Loki to him in the first place.

Loki obliged obediently. He didn't make any sudden movements, and maintained a safe distance once Bucky tossed his jacket over the back of a nearby chair. When he'd finished with that, Bucky opened his arms in welcome. Loki didn't waste any time either; he closed the distance between them immediately, and wrapped Bucky into a warm embrace.

The contact was electric, but also calming. Every nerve-ending in Bucky's body ceased to stand at attention, and he was flooded by completion. His arms wrapped tightly around Loki's back, and his nose found the crook of his neck instantly.

They remained locked in one another's arms for some time. Bucky felt a sense of happiness that he no longer could deny. He knew that it would be only detrimental to continue to fight this connection with Loki. And so what if he found some kind of peace when wrapped in his alpha's arms? That didn't make him any less a man; that didn't make him a stereotypical omega either.

"I could have absolutely killed you when you sent me that picture." Loki chuckled against his temple, before he placed a soft kiss to his skin. "I could hardly contain myself."

"Too bad I wasn't there; I would have paid to see you go stupid-alpha."

"I think that's what we're trying to avoid, James."

"Touché," he replied, before he leaned back slightly and made Loki do the same so they could look at one another. "How was the fancy dinner anyway?"

"Absolutely dull, you would have hated it. Although, you might have had a field day with the Maximoff twins,"

"The who…?"

"The Maximoff twins," Loki repeated with a smirk. "Pietro and Wanda Maximoff; their family hails from Romania. They made quite a bit of money in the trade industry. But most of the family has since died, leaving only the twins as sole inheritors of the family fortune."

Bucky had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Spoiled brats really didn't interest him any. Most of them were vapid and dim-witted, and while it might have been fun for two seconds to make fun of them; he really didn't see it going on any longer than that.

"I thought you knew me better by now."

"No, listen," Loki's smirk grew wider. "Rumor has it that the Maximoff twins are more than just brother and sister. They might actually be mates."

"No way; that's sick." Bucky's face twisted in disgust. "What the hell is happening at your fancy-pantsy parties?"

The only time Bucky had heard of incestuous bonds being formed was on trashy talk shows of the mid-nineties. He always assumed they were put on to shock and revolt. Not to mention they also helped boost a talk show's abysmal ratings by leaps and bounds.

Despite the disgust he felt, Bucky also couldn't help but be curious about the possibility that some rich twins were mated. So he supposed Loki knew him better than he originally believed him to.

"They are unique to say the least."

"That's an understatement!"

"But I would have rather been with you than either of them." Loki's amusement died away and left a level of intensity indicative to him in its place.

There was something both thrilling and terrifying about Loki's intensity. Bucky's internal response wanted him to roll onto his back and present himself to his alpha like an obedient little omega should. But that wasn't who he was, and he refused to play that role regardless of his instincts.

Things weren't ever going to be that way between them. Bucky's fierce independence wasn't going to disappear anytime soon. Loki seemed to understand that, however. Or in the very least, he said as much to Dr. Banner during some of their lengthy therapy sessions where everything was free game to discuss.

"I'm here now. So you better feed me. And none of that organic bullshit in your fridge either."

"It's nearly ten o'clock. You do realize normal people generally eat around seven o'clock."

"I work late so I eat late." Bucky shrugged, only to receive an exasperated eye roll as a response.

Loki broke the embrace, before he turned away and headed towards the gourmet kitchen. Bucky rarely ventured into there since he found out fairly fast that everything was inedible in there. But that didn't discourage him to follow Loki anyway.

The kitchen was spacious and ultra-modern. Stainless steel made up both the appliances and the countertops. The cupboards were a dark hue of grey, and the lighting was almost harshly stark which gave the whole room a very cold feel to it.

"I don't eat strictly organic. I eat fresh." Loki explained as he opened the fridge door. "Sit over there and I'll make you something to eat. But don't expect this to be an everyday occurrence; I'm not your slave, James."

"Yes, you are." Bucky laughed, and pulled out a stool on the other side of the massive island. "You might not realize it yet. But I have you wrapped around my little finger."

Loki shot him a sharp look, although it didn't retain its threatening edge. Instead the expression crumbled into something soft and heart-stopping. Bucky's mouth went dry, and he felt a powerful desire to please rush through his body. All he wanted in that moment was to make Loki endlessly happy, and he felt like he might drown if he didn't.

"Can I stay the night?" He blurted out, which caused Loki's eyebrows to lift in shock. "I mean we aren't going to fuck or anything. But we might as well share a bed. You know so we can figure out who snores and who's a blanket hog."

"I would love that."

"But you'll have to get me a cab tomorrow morning. I'm not riding the subway two days in a row."

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of it." Loki smiled genuinely at him, before he returned his attention to whatever was inside the fridge. And Bucky had to admit that he felt happy, and even his own pessimism wasn't going to get in the way; at least for now anyway.


	24. Chapter Twenty-three :: Wait Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a short chapter, but I needed to get back into the story and it'll take some time to get the feel of it again.

* * *

 

**Chapter Twenty-three :: Wait Forever**

 

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Cooking for Bucky had required a level of patience that Loki severely lacked. For someone who ate literal garbage, Loki's mate was obnoxiously picky about what he would and would not eat. So many of the suggestions that he'd given Bucky had been downright rejected until he nearly throttled him out of frustration.

Eventually though, Loki had found a dusty old can of noodle soup in the cupboard that Bucky decided he wanted as opposed to the many gourmet choices he had at his fingertips. And well, Loki was more than happy to throw a bowl into the microwave instead of cooking until nearly midnight for his mate.

No matter the relentless adoration he harbored for Bucky, Loki had his limitations still. And he would be damned if he was bullied into throwing together a three course meal for a man who preferred prepackaged food pumped up with chemicals in comparison to a freshly put together dish.

"You should get some real food in here." Bucky slurped up a thick noodle loudly. "Like real people food,"

"I'll be damned if I start to buy Cheetos and Ding-Dongs."

"No one said you had to eat them, you know."

"What you should do is not eat that garbage instead." Loki leaned back against the counter top, so he could watch Bucky eat. At least he appeared to be house broken; Bucky had yet to shove his whole face into the bowl and lap up the broth like a dog.

Admittedly that was a mean-spirited thought to have. Loki shook his head to banish it away. He couldn't allow his annoyance to revert him back into haughty state he had been in the beginning of their relationship. He was making progress with Bucky now, and he had to be understanding that Bucky was raised differently than him and there wasn't anything remotely wrong about that either.

"It's soup; there's nothing wrong with soup." Bucky stated with a confused look on his face.

"Besides the sodium,"

"I'm a growing boy. Besides that organic shit doesn't have a taste anyway; the sodium's what gives it an extra kick."

"James, you are hopeless." Loki scoffed, although he couldn't hide the fondness in his tone.

Whether Bucky preferred horribly unhealthy food and spoke in that obnoxious way of his, Loki adored him beyond rhyme or reason. Even when he was aggravated by him, Loki couldn't deny how much this man truly meant to him. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

He suspected his expression said as much too. Because Bucky's cheeks had turned a warm shade of pink, and he ducked his head to focus on the almost empty bowl in front of him; which only made Loki smirk in response.

"After you finish, we'll go to bed."

"Except no funny business, buddy."

"I believe I've already given you my word." Loki smirk broadened. "But I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that I'm thrilled by the prospect of having you in my bed."

Bucky visibly rolled his eyes, but he didn't say anything negatively in response. The bond between them was continuing to strengthen, that much was clear. After all, Bucky had been the one who suggested that he stay the night.

It might not have been what Loki had truly wanted, but he knew patience was a virtue in this situation. He had to let Bucky take the lead, and he had to keep his chaotic emotions under lock and key since he refused to halt their progress and return to ground zero again.

He had worked too hard to get to this point. He didn't want to scare his mate away, especially when he took into account how hostile Bucky could be if he felt cornered. And it would serve neither of their purposes if Loki were to push too hard for intimacy at this point.

Intimacy would come eventually. It might not come tonight or tomorrow or even a few months from now, but he had all confidence that Bucky would warm up to the idea with time. It would just have to be at his own pace.

"All right, let's get this sleepover underway." Bucky dropped his spoon with a clatter into the bowl, before rubbing his hands together.

Pushing off the opposite counter, Loki leaned over the island to retrieve the empty bowl and its accompanying spoon. He placed both items into the sink, and quickly turned on the tap to wash any residual broth away; before he turned off the water, and turned around to face his mate.

Bucky was now standing, although he looked reluctant to do much else than that. So Loki felt compelled to take the reins for now. Once he was certain that Bucky could take them back, then he would relinquish all power to him again without an argument.

Slowly, Loki walked around the island and held out his hand. Bucky looked at him then down to his hand, before he reached out to take it in a firm grasp. Their hands seemed perfectly portioned to one another's, and they slotted together like they were created for this sole purpose to touch one another.

"I'll be furious if you snore." Loki led Bucky out of the kitchen, into the living room, and towards the hallway that led to the master suite. "I need absolute silence in order to sleep."

"Yeah, well buy some ear plugs, buddy. I bet you can afford them."

"So is that an admission that you snore?"

"I don't fucking snore, all right; I might a drooler, though." Bucky guffawed childishly.

Had things been entirely different, Loki knew he wouldn't have found anything endearing about Bucky at all. His initial reaction of snobbery towards him wouldn't have faded away remotely. And well, he was coming to realize how detrimental that attitude really was in almost every aspect of his life.

Bucky might have been uncultured, but he was far from stupid. His tattoos might have been off-putting on first sight too, and yet Loki could see the beauty and mastery in the artwork that littered his body in broad lines and vibrant colors now. All of which would have been lost to him because of first impressions, no doubt.

"I like to sleep on the left side of the bed. There won't be any compromises on that line." Loki pushed open the bedroom door once they traversed through the hallway, and he led Bucky into the lavish space.

The bedroom was perhaps Loki's favorite room in his apartment. Like the living room, there was a brilliant view of the city from the floor to ceiling windows. Dark wood covered the floor, accented by a large blue Persian rug that spanned out from underneath the four-post bed that had blue and emerald green bedding and half a dozen pillows leaning against the headboard.

Flipping on the recess lightning, Loki soon released Bucky's hand. His mate had been in here before while entirely out of mind on alcohol. Thankfully, he hadn't gotten sick anywhere including the bathtub as he initially reported to Loki when he left the next morning.

Without any hesitancy, Bucky meandered further into the room. He seemed to be curious of every nook and cranny of the suite. He eyed the cream colored settee near the windows, and the paintings on the wall; most of which displayed choppy waters that could crash any ship foolish enough to travel on them.

"You must have a lot of money." Bucky stopped in front of one of the larger paintings that hung opposite the windows. "Fucking loaded, probably,"

"I'll disclose my financial situation to you once we sit down with an attorney. For marital purposes in the future, of course."

"I wasn't trying to fish for the details, you know." Bucky glanced at him with a frown. "I was just making an observation. I mean this room is probably as big as my whole damn apartment in Brooklyn."

Loki remembered Bucky's apartment all too well. It was pretty pathetic in comparison to his, however he wasn't about to say that out loud. Bucky would have taken it as a personal attack against god only knows what.

"I didn't really have a look around last time. I was lucky I found the bathroom, actually."

"And I'm grateful for that."

"Oh, shut up,"

"Come here." Loki beckoned, although he found himself holding his breath after the words left him.

For several moments, Bucky only looked at him in a calculated way. He soon relented though, and walked over to Loki with a bit of a swagger that made his instincts go temporarily haywire. That unrelenting heat in the pit of his stomach began to grow and flared up, and Loki wanted nothing more than to ravage Bucky right then and there.

The closer his mate came to him, the more Loki felt the unbearable need to rip Bucky's clothes off and to kiss every inch of his body. His hands quivered in anticipation, although he managed to keep them at his sides once Bucky was in front of him; so close he could smell the aftershave on Bucky's skin.

"You're testing my resolve right now." He curled his hands into fists.

"I know." Bucky reached out to lightly touch his jaw. "Just be patient with me for a little bit longer, okay. Give me some more time, and I promise you it'll be worth it."

Leaning into the touch, Loki exhaled loudly. He would wait; he didn't have any other choice. But more than anything, he was determined to show some self-restraint out of respect for Bucky. He wanted to gain his trust and adoration with hard work, even when his instincts threatened to drive him to the brink madness again.

"I'll wait forever for you." He declared and he meant it. "I promise you that."


	25. Chapter Twenty-four :: Changes

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**Chapter Twenty-four :: Changes**

 

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Alpha scent; it was everywhere around him like a heat wave in July. Bucky felt light-headed, although he was equal parts unaffected by the overbearing smell. Had he been a normal run-of-the-mill omega, the smell would have probably kick-started his heat. But instead, he was nearly unaffected beyond the helium type of effect that seemed to fill his head like it were a balloon.

Burying his nose into the probably million thread count bed linens didn't help either. The smell was inescapable, and it was far more potent in between the blankets and sheets than it was anywhere else in the apartment. He supposed it was because Loki slept bare-chested, and his pheromones just oozed out of his pores when he slept much more than usual.

Then again, it could also be contributed to the fact that Loki was indeed bare-chested and pressed impossibly close to Bucky at that opportune moment. Bucky had let him curl around him like a second skin, although he nearly regretted the decision with the endless odor that threatened to choke him.

This was new to Bucky. Sure, he'd had meaningless romps with men and women in his past. But he usually didn't stick around for the tail-end of the encounter, and he definitely didn't cuddle with anyone. So this was definitely unprecedented of him, and yet he knew that it was a necessary thing to do all the same.

Loki needed some type of prolonged physical contact. Dr. Banner had mentioned something along those lines during a one-on-one session that they had had recently. However, it hadn't simply been for Loki's benefit either; Bucky knew the buzzing underneath his skin would subside by the full body contact, and he wasn't wrong in that regard.

He wasn't entirely unaffected by Loki. Nowadays he felt yearning to be nearer, and days apart seemed like self-inflicted torture. He yearned to be close to Loki; he even loved to be around him, even though their interests didn't coincide and their socioeconomic differences were vastly contrasting.

That didn't seem to matter any longer, thankfully. They were building a level of understanding in between them, and while there would definitely be bumps along the way – Bucky was strangely confident that they could overcome it. After all, they had overcome Bucky's hostility which wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination. So they'd be okay in the end.

Shifting ever-so-slightly, Bucky glanced over his clothed shoulder to look at Loki. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even; he was still asleep, and he seemed to be heavily asleep at that. It was oddly comforting to know that he might have had a part in Loki's contentment; it was like he'd done something right, which seemed very omega-like to him. Maybe too much so for his own tastes.

Despite his biology, Bucky never felt like an omega. He would have been better suited as an alpha because of his ornery attitude. It extended way before he'd tried to fit in, and when he was pumped up to the gills with heat suppressants too.

Everyone thought he'd be an alpha, so the reality was a shock to say the least. But now Bucky knew that there wasn't any mistake about it. He felt different in minor ways, probably in ways that no one would have even noticed on the outside.

He wanted to make Loki happy. He thrived on the idea that he was the cause for a laugh or a smile or any positive feeling and reaction. And even now, he felt proud by the slight quirk of Loki's lips; as if he somehow contributed to his deep sleep he was in in some way.

But still it was scary. Bucky knew things were changing inside of him, and he was beginning to realize that maybe he wasn't broken like he originally believed himself to be. His body was actually recovering from all those years that he'd abused heat suppressants.

No one knew if he'd ever be entirely normal. Dr. Banner had taken a cautiously optimistic approach to his recovery. And maybe Bucky would never have a full-blown heat, but at least his bond with Loki was strengthening in ways he never expected it would; which was definitely a good thing.

Except right now, it was becoming a bit too overwhelming for Bucky. So with some fancy maneuvering and nearly five minutes of trying to escape the cradle of Loki's arms, which didn't seem to want him to leave; he finally managed to roll across the mattress until he got onto his feet.

Loki's smell was still heavy in the air, though. Which led Bucky towards the en suite where he could close the door and block the intensity of it for the time being. He needed a breather, and maybe he also wanted the opportunity to reflect on exactly what was transpiring between them.

He flipped on the light-switch, and took in the room with a thorough sweep of his eyes. Carrara marble covered the floors, and the vanity's counter-top matched. There was a massive shower-stall in one corner of the room and a stand-alone bathtub beside it. The toilet was confined into the water closet next to the walk-in clothing closet, and two huge circular mirrors were mounted above the vanity and its two sinks.

Slowly, almost cautiously, Bucky walked up to the vanity to glance at his reflection. His hair was matted down flat onto his head, and his eyes looked oddly owlish in the clinical light. He looked like himself, but in some ways he really didn't. He couldn't pinpoint why, and he supposed it wasn't physical anyway.

His tattoos still littered his forearms, and stubble adorned his face like it usually did. He probably needed a good shave and a haircut, maybe a bit of a tweeze to his eyebrows. Otherwise, there was nothing significantly different. He was the same 'ol Bucky Barnes.

"But I'm really not." He murmured out loud, before he touched his cheeks and pulled down on the skin. "I'm different."

After a few moments of contemplation, Bucky dropped his hands and twisted the knobs above the sink to turn on the water. He then splashed a healthy amount of frigid water onto his face, as if to sober himself up a little.

He wasn't the type to be introspective, really. Now that he was in therapy, it seemed to come around almost naturally. He had been equipped with the proper tools to try and understand his own internal monologue, and also how to spot some of his more unhealthy of behaviors.

Splashing some more water onto his face, Bucky turned off the tap and grabbed for a towel. He pressed the terrycloth to his skin, and breathed out a sigh. His previous vertigo was only a distant memory, although he could smell the telltale signs of Loki on his own skin now.

When his face was relatively dry, he hung up the towel once more and ran a hand through his hair. It stuck up on end, but it really didn't matter if he was going back to bed anyway. He just hoped he could sleep with the constrictive odor around him, and Loki's even more constrictive hold on him.

He took several deep breaths, before he willed himself to step out of the bathroom. He quickly flipped off the lights, and took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dark. Loki had insisted on closing the drapes so everything was damn-near pitch black. And that made it kind of difficult for Bucky to navigate the bedroom without running into something.

Luckily, the bedroom wasn't filled with unnecessary furniture pieces so Bucky avoided a collision. He was soon clambering back onto the right side of the bed, and pulling up the sheets to his chin, and inhaling the undeniable alpha smell again.

"James," Loki suddenly slurred, before a warm hand touched his side.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Where were you?"

"Nature calls," he lied as he tried to get comfortable.

Loki said nothing, which led Bucky to believe that he drifted back to sleep. But he was soon proven wrong when Loki's hand crept from his side to sprawl over his tee-shirt clad chest. For a few moments it remained motionless there until Loki started to rub lazy circles against his chest.

"Are you afraid of me?" Loki asked gruffly from disuse.

The question came out of left-field for Bucky. He didn't know why Loki would ask that so suddenly, especially when he had willingly gotten into bed with him. Then again, Loki was probably half asleep which might be the reason behind it.

"If I thought you were a serial killer, I probably wouldn't have gotten into bed with you in the first place."

"I'm asking seriously."

"Why would I be afraid of you now?" Bucky turned his head to look in Loki's direction, although he couldn't make out his features in the dark. "I mean I was initially. Because this shit is pretty scary, but now I guess I'm not; you aren't being as aggressive as you were before. So I feel, well I feel safer that you aren't trying to piss on me like a dog."

"I'd never hurt you."

"I'm starting to believe that."

"I'd never take you against your will. Even when I'm mad with lust, you have to believe me when I say I wouldn't." Loki sounded very much awake now.

Bucky bit his bottom lip. He didn't know what to say to that. He wanted to believe it, but things were still foreign between them. They didn't know one another as well as they should, and it would take some time to get to that point. So trust was a dicey area between them right now.

As Bucky mulled over what to say in response, Loki laid his hand over his heart. The gesture was innocuous, but there was obvious weight behind it. It was clearly a declaration of some sort, and Bucky would have been stupid to overlook it.

"I promise you that I'll be patient. I know as the way of first impressions, I wasn't remotely understanding. In fact, I was the aggressive, stake-your-claims type of alpha. And I do see the error of my ways, James. I honestly do."

"I'm not going anywhere." Bucky admitted. "And it'll take me a while to trust you. But I'm getting there."

"Some day I know I'll make you very happy."

"The real question is if I can make you happy, I think."

"James," Loki's finger curled into the thin fabric of his tee-shirt. "You do make me happy. While things aren't the way I anticipated for when I thought of being bonded with someone; I'm still infinitely happier than I was before."

"You must have been a miserable fuck then." Bucky chuckled softly.

Loki snorted in reply, although it didn't sound derisive. Had it been weeks ago, Bucky suspected his reaction would have been a lot more hostile and nasty instead. So they really were coming to some kind of understanding.

"I certainly have my moments. I'm sure you can attest to that." Loki leaned into him abruptly, before he nuzzled his cheek. "You have the faintest smell; it's the one I smelled on your jacket."

"Dr. Banner said it was because of perspiration collected over time. I've had that jacket for like ten years."

"James, I'm starting to smell you now."

"Huh," Bucky said dumbly, and felt a shot of terror run up his spine.

Neither of them spoke after that declaration; maybe Loki knew that it was a terrifying prospect for Bucky. Or maybe there wasn't anything else to say when it came to that topic. Whatever the reason, Loki withdrew but he kept his hand over Bucky's heart still.

Bucky didn't move any after that. Loki's easy breathing soon came, but he stayed awake with the knowledge that things would never be the same from this point on. He was changing, and there was a real possibility that he would be like every omega in the world. And that made his stomach churn and his eyes began prickle – because he didn't want to be like them. He didn't want to lose himself.


End file.
